Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone: ALTERED
by Sword Maiden
Summary: So..we all knew Harry was indestructable, but what about three girls from an alternate universe? The final chapter is up! What will the three girls do now that the year is ending and they know they have to die??
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One  
Where to begin? It was raining, it was dark, it was cold, and we were all at the movie theater to spend our last day in a three-day weekend pleasantly. By we I mean Lisa, Laura and me. We were seeing The Two Towers, again. The only difference was we had seen it live since the last time. Let me explain for those of you who are just jumping into our story.  
  
Two days ago we were all sucked into an alternate universe. Yes, you read write, sucked into an alternate universe. The universe just so happened to be The Lord of the Rings. Suddenly we had gone from being bookworms to book-victims. Anyway, after we got home we found out that a month in the book was only a minute at home. Thankful, we finally got to rest hoping that nothing like that would ever happen again. Unfortunately, the next day, we were sucked into Animorphs, book #34, The Prophecy. It should be called Hell, if you ask me, because that's what it was. Touching flies to "acquire their DNA", climbing trees that tower thousands of feet over the fiery core of some foreign alien planet, falling from those trees to our death. Sorry, that was just me, and you read right, again.  
  
Falling to my death.  
  
You see, in order to get home, we had to die. Suicide, however, was out of the question. You commit suicide, you're done for. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.  
  
Now then, where was I? Oh yes, we were at the movie theater seeing The Two Towers. The show didn't start for another ten minutes, so we were sitting in the theater with no more than fifteen other people, we had the best seats in the house, and we were bored out of our minds. We had gotten popcorn for one reason and one reason only: To throw at people. After you've had the experience of going for two and a half, nearly three, days without eating your stomach kind of, well, shrinks. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true, and a three-hour movie is a piece of cake to get through without food. So, we were sitting and talking, refraining from reminiscing, and becoming more and more bored. I, for one, was anxious to see the movie. Unlike the other two, who constantly said how glad they were we were home, I rather missed Middle Earth. I wanted to see Helm's Deep, a major battle that I am proud to say I fought in and, amazingly, lived through.  
  
By now, for those of you who aren't jumping in, you should know who I am. For those of you who are jumping in, my name is Courtney Caillet. I have a sword that has seen more battles than you can count on one hand and more scars than you will ever have in a lifetime. My mouth is quicker than my brain, and my ears are better than my eyes. I've made friends with warriors, elves, dwarves, aliens, and, of course, teenagers like myself. I would mention a wizard, Gandalf to be exact, but I don't know that he was my friend. More an ally, but I knew him all the same.  
  
Now then, as you can tell I'm the narrator of this story. Laura told the first one, Lisa got the second one, and I get this one. There's perfect logic behind the decision of narration, and when you figure it out, would you let me know what it is? Anyway, on with the story.  
  
Being bored with no movie on the screen is not exactly a sign for good things to come. Throw talking in there and you have a disaster on your hands, especially when you take into consideration who's talking: Lisa. For those of you who don't know who Lisa is or what she's like or, in fact, the full history behind our getting sucked into alternate universes you can't realize the danger of this situation to the full effect.  
  
By this time Laura and I had tuned her out and taken up a conversation between ourselves. Quite suddenly, however, we heard those infamous words, "I think..." and tuned Lisa back in just in time to hear, "Really happened!"  
  
And BOOM!, no more theater, no more comfortable seats, no more popcorn. Okay, maybe it wasn't a BOOM. Basically, the world dimmed down. All of the dull colors began to swirl together creating what seemed to be a very bad finger painting. We all grabbed onto each other as the wind picked up around us. Faster and faster it got and it felt like we were in a miniature tornado. I shut my eyes to stop the wind from stinging them. It felt like forever we were in that tornado, spinning around and around. Then, the wind stopped as abruptly as it had begun, and I opened my eyes. We were in darkness, darkness so pure that if we had of had the nerve to move we wouldn't have been able to see our hand in front of our face. There was no sound around us, just dreadful silence. All we could hear was our ragged breath and pounding hearts. And then, as soon as it had started, colors came back into the world, a regulated wind began. It was all over.  
  
And we were really far from home.  
  
We were standing in the middle of a jostling crowd, each of us with a cart in front of us with maroon trunks that bore our initials and squawking owls. "Lisa?" Laura and I questioned as calmly as possible.  
  
"I thought it would be fun to see Hogwarts," Lisa replied.  
  
"You didn't," I moaned.  
  
"She did," Laura groaned. I checked my watch.  
  
"It's seven till eleven, we had better find the train," I announced.  
  
"You mean you aren't mad?" Lisa asked.  
  
"Of course I'm mad, but we're here, we can't get back, so let's go." I pushed my cart forward.  
  
"Do we even have tickets?" Laura mused aloud.  
  
"Who knows," I replied. I checked my pockets as I walked and wasn't surprised to find a ticket in my jeans' pocket. I held it up, "Yep, we've got tickets."  
  
"Great," Laura said with nothing but sarcasm.  
  
"Hey look at it this way Laura, you can buddy up with Hermione and read books!" Lisa told her sister. I smiled in spite of myself.  
  
"You're hopeless Lisa," I remarked.  
  
"And you'll get to see your lover boy," Lisa said to me while ignoring my statement. I blushed slightly.  
  
"Harry is not my lover boy," I corrected her.  
  
"Sure," her and Laura chorused.  
  
"So," I said in an attempt to change the subject, "where's the platform?" Lisa and Laura shrugged. I looked back at my watch. "We have five minutes, either we find the platform or we take a walk in a dangerous neighborhood," I told them.  
  
"It can't be that hard," Laura remarked.  
  
"Yeah, just look for people vanishing through a wall," Lisa added. We laughed, despite our situation. We continued to walk, but began to attract attention because of our owls.  
  
"Where's the stupid platform?" I heard Laura mutter behind me. Suddenly, I noticed someone walking toward a wall and watched, in amazement, as they went clear through instead of crashing into it.  
  
"Over there!" I told the other two. We made our way over and stood in front of the barrier between platforms nine and ten.  
  
"Well, we're here," Laura said, then looked at Lisa and me. "Now, who goes first?" Her eyes lingered on me now, and Lisa was looking at me as well.  
  
"Oh no! Not me!" I told them, shaking my head vigorously.  
  
"Who then?" Laura asked. I looked at the two of them.  
  
"Lisa," I chose.  
  
"Give me one good reason why I should go first?" Lisa asked.  
  
"Because you got us here," I said, but in addition thought, again. Then I added, "Because I don't want to go first."  
  
"And because I can easily make you," Laura chimed in.  
  
"I believe I asked for a good reason," Lisa remarked.  
  
"Oh, God, we've been here for three minutes and already we're fighting. I'll go first," I announced. Then I looked at Lisa and added, "Before you push me through." She grinned and I faced the barrier. It looked solid all right. "Oh God," I muttered.  
  
"Go for it," I heard Laura tell me.  
  
"Crash and burn, crash and burn!" Lisa chanted quietly on my left. I was too nervous to yell at her. I walked toward the barrier, jogged slowly, and then broke into a run. The wall got nearer and nearer. Oh God, I thought, I'm gonna hit the wall! It's gonna end here and now! I'm going home before anything happens!  
  
The front of my cart hit the wall, no, it didn't hit, it went through! The rest of it, and me, followed. Soon, I was on the other side! A sign over my head said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. I looked behind me and, not to my surprise, saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. I had finally done something right! Suddenly, Laura appeared on my right, and not long after, Lisa appeared on my left. "Whoa," they said in unison.  
  
In front of us was the scarlet steam engine we had read so much about. Smoke from the engine was drifting over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way, three of them being ours, over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. We walked forward to find a compartment, preferably an empty one.  
  
No such luck.  
  
Seeing as how it was only three minutes to eleven, there were no empty compartments. Therefore we settled for the option of getting our trunks onto the train and then worrying about where we would sit. Between the three of us we got our owls and other belongings loaded onto the train. There was a compartment with only one occupant so we opted for that one. I was forced to knock on the door. The person, a boy to be exact, looked up. I stuck my head in the door and asked, "Do you mind? Everywhere else is full."  
  
"No, not at all," the boy said. I heaved my trunk in with one hand, held my owl with the other. Finally, we were all in the compartment and seated. I looked out the window and saw, much to my shock, a family of boys and their mother standing there, and they all had flaming red hair! "Lisa, Laura," I hissed. They both looked out the window.  
  
"They must have just met Harry," Laura whispered in my ear. I nodded in agreement. We all looked away so as not to seem rude and relaxed as best we could. The train suddenly started and my nerves flared. There was no turning back now. I could see that I wasn't the only one who felt this way, judging by the looks on my friends' faces.  
  
About ten minutes went by I suppose and no one had said a word. Everyone stared out the window in some sort of reverie I suspect. Where everyone else's mind was I don't know, but my mind was back in Middle Earth, again. As a matter of fact, my mind was practically always back in Middle Earth, when it wasn't in Animorphs. I missed everyone. Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, hell, I even missed Gandalf, and that's saying something!  
  
All of a sudden, a very odd thought crossed my mind. It involved the boy sitting across from me. I looked back at him and realized that I knew who he was. I turned to Laura and whispered, "It's Cedric."  
  
"Who?" she asked.  
  
"Cedric Diggory," I told her. A lightbulb flicked on somewhere in her mind, and she silently mouthed, "Oh yeah."  
  
"So," Lisa, who hadn't heard the news, said, "what's your name?" The boy looked at her, possibly because he was shocked to hear she had an English accent. Well, that's why I looked at her.  
  
"Cedric Diggory," he replied. Lisa looked at us and smiled. "I'm a fourth year."  
  
"Oh, we're only first years," Laura explained, also with an accent. Great, I was the only American around now.  
  
"Really? Well, you'll love it at Hogwarts. There's so much to do, so many people, but stay away from anyone in Slytherin House. They're as bad as they come," Cedric informed us. Of course we already knew all of this.  
  
"What house are you in?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.  
  
"Hufflepuff," Cedric replied proudly.  
  
And so the conversation continued. We gave him our names, he told us about Hogwarts. I noticed that Laura seemed to be rather dreamy-eyed, but dismissed it. She was probably just tired. After all, this was the third alternate universe we had been in over the course of three days. Cedric at one point asked about my lack of an accent, and our story was that I was Lisa and Laura's cousin and had moved here to live with them when my parents died three years ago. He bought it and everything was fine.  
  
Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back our door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?" Well, believe it or not, even though we had eaten before we came, we were anxious to try as many things as we could. We got to our feet and went out into the corridor. Cedric, however, stayed behind. When we approached the cart, we ran into someone else buying sweets. Actually, I rammed into him, hard. Caught off guard I stumbled a bit, regained my balance, and then blushed as I hastily apologized. "I am so sorry, I didn't mean to run into you," I stammered idiotically.  
  
"That's all right," the boy said. Then he looked at me, and I gasped. Stumbling again, Laura steadied me while laughing.  
  
"First day with your new feet?" she asked, still with an accent. I took it that they were going to use their accents the whole time we were here and decided to get used to it. I forced a laugh and turned back to the witch with the cart. Between the three of us we got a little of everything off of the cart. I gave my stuff to Laura and told them I'd be inside in a minute. I turned back to the boy.  
  
"I just want to say that I'm sorry, again," I told him.  
  
"It's really fine," he insisted. Finally, I couldn't contain myself anymore.  
  
"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" And I immediately wished I hadn't said it.  
  
"Yes," he replied, coloring slightly.  
  
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, I just wondered." Stupid, just shut- up! I yelled at myself. Harry just smiled uncomfortably. "Anyway, I should get back to my friends now. Bye." And I walked back into my compartment. I sat down and when Lisa offered me a Chocolate Frog, I refused it.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked me.  
  
"Didn't you guys recognize him?" I asked.  
  
"Who?" the twins asked in unison.  
  
"Harry Potter!" I said.  
  
"What?!" everyone in the compartment exclaimed, even Cedric.  
  
"Harry Potter, on this train? Going to Hogwarts?" Cedric asked. I nodded, we all nodded.  
  
"And I bumped into him," I groaned in embarrassment. Lisa and Laura found this humorous. "Shut-up, it's not funny!" I said, but proceeded to disprove this by laughing myself. After the initial shock was gone, we all decided that the candies were looking rather tasty. There were Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things that none of us had every seen before, but they were good nonetheless. We offered our goodies to Cedric, who readily accepted and joined in our miniature party. This broke every shred of ice and we were perfectly content with the company of everyone in the compartment.  
  
We were in the middle of daring each other to eat certain Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans when our compartment door slid open. The girl standing in the doorway was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes, and we knew exactly who she was. "Have any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had, of course, a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.  
  
"No," we all answered her in unison. The boy behind her, Neville, moaned.  
  
"He's gone, Trevor's gone for good this time. I'll never find him on this train."  
  
"Don't worry, I'm sure none of the cats are hungry," Lisa told him. Neville moaned again and walked away.  
  
"Lisa, what did you do that for?" Laura asked.  
  
"What?" Lisa asked, clearly not seeing her remark as upsetting.  
  
"Did you know that Harry Potter is in the compartment next to you?" Hermione suddenly asked, coming in and sitting down.  
  
"Yes," I replied with a sigh.  
  
"And he really has the scar!" Hermione continued excitedly. Then she said, "I'm Hermione Granger by the way." We went through introductions quickly. "Anyway, I had better go help Neville find his toad. You should probably change into your robes, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And then she was gone as quickly as she had come.  
  
"I do hope she's not in Hufflepuff," Cedric said quietly with a slight grimace. We all laughed. Then, we opened our trunks and looked for our robes. Not looking at each other we pulled them on. I, for one, was anxious to see what else was in my trunk, but before I had a chance there came a noise from outside in the corridor. We all went to the door to see what was happening. The door to the compartment next to us, Harry's and Ron's compartment, was open. We were just in time to hear Draco Malfoy's cool voice say, "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."  
  
"Say that again," we heard Ron say.  
  
"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.  
  
"Unless you get out now," Harry told him.  
  
"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."  
  
There was a pause, we supposed while someone reached to get some candy. Then there came a horrible yell. For a split second a hand flew out of the compartment and on one of the knuckles of who we took to be Goyle (Malfoy's "bodyguard" along with Crabbe) Scabbers, Ron's rat, had sunk his sharp little teeth in and wouldn't let go. We laughed, but heard a small thud which was Scabbers hitting the window. The three boys then came out of the compartment and saw us. They stopped and not long after Hermione Granger was back. "What are you looking at?" Malfoy asked us. We all just grinned at him. The boys then walked hurriedly away.  
  
"What has been going on?" Hermione asked Harry and Ron. We looked into their compartment and saw sweets scattered over the floor. Ron picked Scabbers up by his tail.  
  
"I think he's been knocked out," Ron told Harry. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No - I don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep."  
  
And so he had.  
  
"You've met Malfoy before?"  
  
Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.  
  
"I've heard of his family," Ron said darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He then turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"  
  
"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"  
  
"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," Ron replied, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"  
  
"All right - I only came back here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," Hermione said in a stiffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?" Yes, Ron did know. His mother had been trying to rub it off back at the station. I smiled.  
  
She then turned, pushed past us, and walked away. "And what do you want?" Ron asked us.  
  
"Nothing," we all replied.  
  
"Who are you anyway?" he then inquired. We went through introductions again. "Hey, aren't you the girl who ran into me?" Harry asked me suddenly. I felt my cheeks flush and nodded almost unnoticeably.  
  
"Well, we'll let you two get into your robes," Laura said. Everyone nodded in agreement, and we went back to our compartment. It was getting dark outside and the train did seem to be getting slower. My nerves flared once more. We were almost at Hogwarts, a place I had always wanted to go but never thought I could. Now that my dream was coming true I wasn't so sure I wanted it to. Luckily I didn't have too much time to dwell on my thoughts. A voice suddenly echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."  
  
Between the four of us we got rid of the uneaten food, cramming it into our pockets, and joined the crowd thronging the corridor. Cedric spotted some of his friends whom he hadn't had the luxury of sitting with during the trip, said good-bye to us, and went over to them.  
  
The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. It reminded me exactly of school to be honest, only everyone was wearing black robes. Although it was cold I refrained from shivering. After my trip to Middle Earth and hanging out with Aragorn and the rest of the gang, cold air doesn't have quite the same affect that it used to have on me. I could tell that Lisa and Laura had grown a tolerance for it as well. A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and I heard a voice that I recognized: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" I also heard, more quietly, "All right there Harry?"  
  
Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. For some reason it comforted me.  
  
"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"  
  
Slipping and stumbling we followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of us that I thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody talked much, not even Lisa. Neville, otherwise known as the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice. I pitied him already and then thought of the year that was ahead of him. That just made me pity him more.  
  
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "just' round this bend here."  
  
There was a loud "Oooooh!"  
  
The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. Even Lisa, Laura, and I couldn't not be stunned at the sight of the castle. Let me tell you, the one in the movie doesn't do it justice by a very long road!  
  
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Lisa, Laura, and I got a boat to ourselves. Next to us Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione. We all smiled at each other.  
  
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"  
  
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over us as we sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. My nerves were being stretched to the limit and my hands began to shake.  
  
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; we all bent our heads and the little boats carried us through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. We were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking us right underneath the castle, until we reached a kind of underground harbor, where we clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.  
  
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" inquired Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.  
  
"Trevor!" Neville cried blissfully, holding out his hands. Then we clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.  
  
We walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.  
  
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"  
  
Hagrid raised one gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. I grabbed Lisa's hand, and she grabbed Laura's. This reassured us that we would be there for each other no matter what kind of hell we were going into, which was usually the worst kind. A deep breath of cold air cleared my mind and. . . 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and my first thought was that this was not someone to cross. Sorry Professor, I believe you'll be yelling at me for a good portion of the year.  
  
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.  
  
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."  
  
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit a whole house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing us led to the upper floors.  
  
We followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. I could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from the doorway to the right - where the rest of the school must already be - but Professor McGonagall showed us, the first years, into a small, empty chamber off the hall. We crowded in, standing rather close together than we would usually have done, peering about nervously. Even I was a bit scared, even though I knew what was coming. I was scared of which house we would each be put in. Would we all be put in the same? Did anyone know where we came from? No time to think about it.  
  
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall told us all. "The start-of- term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.  
  
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.  
  
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."  
  
Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. I saw Harry try and flatten his hair. Her eyes then fell on Lisa and Laura, and then on me. They remained on me for more time then I felt comfortable with, and I looked away.  
  
"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."  
  
She left the chamber. I swallowed hard. What had she been thinking when she was looking at me? Did she know something? "Well," I heard Lisa suddenly whisper on my right, "I suppose we should just leave now, save our houses some points." I stifled a laugh. It was good to know that Lisa wasn't completely hopeless yet.  
  
"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" I heard Harry ask Ron from in front of us.  
  
"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."  
  
The three of us looked at each other and fought back laughter. I looked around and noticed that everyone looked terrified. I could only imagine how I looked. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. I tried not to listen to her, because no matter how many times you read the books, you won't learn any more than two spells. I knew we wouldn't need the spells, not yet anyway, but I was rather embarrassed.  
  
If I remember correctly, the only other time that I was as nervous as I was then was at the battle of Helm's Deep. Nothing will ever top that. I decided, instead of looking at my friends, to focus my gaze on the door. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and possibly lead me to my doom. What would happen if I were put into some house like Slytherin? Granted, the odds of this happening were slim to none, but still. . .  
  
Then something happened that made me jump about a foot in the air - several people behind me screamed. As a matter-of-fact I believe I might have screamed as well, but I can't be sure.  
  
"What the - ?" I heard many people begin, Lisa being one of them.  
  
Many people around us gasped. We didn't, naturally. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at us first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance - " I recognized him as the Fat Friar of Hufflepuff house.  
  
"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"  
  
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed us. I knew this was Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, or Nearly Headless Nick, of Gryffindor house.  
  
Nobody answered, not even Lisa who is usually highly outspoken, in case you haven't noticed.  
  
"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"  
  
A few people nodded mutely, me being one of them.  
  
"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."  
  
"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."  
  
Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.  
  
"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told us, "and follow me."  
  
Feeling oddly as though my legs had turned to lead, which I'm sure many people felt, I got into line behind Lisa and Laura, and we walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.  
  
It was even more amazing than I had imagined it. Thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting, lighted it. The tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led us up here, so that we came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind us. That was a comfortable situation. The hundreds of faces staring at us looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. "I feel like I'm back at the Dead Marshes," I heard Laura get up the gumption to whisper. My hands were shaking again. To avoid all the staring eyes, and out of curiosity, I looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. I heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts a History."  
  
It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.  
  
Can't wait for a rainy day, I thought sarcastically.  
  
I quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four- legged stool in front of us. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. I couldn't think of anyone who would let such a thing in their house. Certainly not my mom.  
  
I stopped my train of thought right there. The thought of my mom made me homesick.  
  
Noticing that everyone else in the hall was now staring at the hat, I stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:  
  
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, Your top hats sleek and tall, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, Where dwell the brave at heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart; You might belong in Hufflepuff Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, If you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind; Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends, Those cunning folk use any means To achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap!"  
  
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. Even a few of us first years joined in. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.  
  
"So we've just got to try on the hat!" I heard Ron, who was quite close, whisper to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."  
  
I smiled. I supposed trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, after all, I didn't want to make a fool of myself when I was the only American in the school, according to everyone else (Lisa and Laura were still doing their accents).  
  
Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.  
  
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she told us all. "Abbott, Hannah!"  
  
A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.  
  
The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. I saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.  
  
"Bones, Susan!"  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.  
  
"Boot, Terry!"  
  
"RAVENCLAW!"  
  
The table on the far left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.  
  
"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on our closest left exploded with cheers; I could see Ron's twin brothers, Fred and George, cat-calling.  
  
"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. I can tell you right now, the Slytherins looked like a highly unpleasant lot, and they were. How the events that followed happened I have no idea.  
  
My name was creeping up very fast. I was not only shaking but I now felt sick. Wouldn't it be perfect if I went up there, put on the hat, and barfed? Suddenly, "Caillet, Courtney" was called. My heart skipped a beat, or two, and I reluctantly left Lisa's side and walked up to the stool. I saw everyone staring at me just before the hat fell over my eyes. I sat on the stool and waited.  
  
Suddenly, there was a small voice in my head. "Hmm, difficult. You have courage, yes, and not a bad mind. You want to prove yourself, not only to your classmates but to your friends as well." I awaited the hat's decision. It didn't come quickly. "There's something else here that I can't quite grasp. There's talent, no doubt about that. Experience, hardships. You've been through much. You've known pain to the utmost extremity." Suddenly, something happened that had rarely ever happened before.  
  
FLASH!  
  
I was back at Helm's Deep. My sword was in my hand. My strength. It was the only thing that would keep me alive. So I treated it as such. It sang as it flew through the air slaughtering soldier after soldier. I could no longer tell my friends from my foes. Oh God, what was I doing here? I didn't belong here! Still I kept fighting. Blood covered me, rain was dripping into my eyes. I could smell death all around me, hear pleas of help. Help I could not give. I was alone. Alone. So alone.  
  
FLASH!  
  
I was back in the Great Hall. Oh God, what am I doing here?  
  
"You're here to help," came the hat's small voice in my head again. "You have potential, you can go to greatness. You shall go to greatness. Ah, and I know exactly where to put you to help you on your way." I waited, I wondered, and then. . .  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
I breathed deeply in relief. The hat was taken off my head and I walked over to the Gryffindor table, where people were standing and cheering. I shook hands with a few, the Weasleys to begin with, and Lee Jordan. There were others, I believe I shook hands with Oliver Wood as well. I finally sat down and closed my eyes in the deepest relief possible. Suddenly, I was lurched out of my reverie when I heard, "Davis, Laura."  
  
Laura approached the stool, placed the hat on her head, and there was silence for too many seconds. Then, to my horror,  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!"  
  
The Hufflepuff table applauded, and I saw Cedric shake Laura's hand when she got to the table. She looked over at me and tried to give me reassurance with a smile. It didn't work.  
  
Oh well, there was still Lisa, right?  
  
"Davis, Lisa!" Lisa now approached the stool. Once the hat was on her head, I could see a smile form underneath its rim. I prayed a silent prayer.  
  
Apparently God can't hear you in alternate universes.  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
I fought back the urge to scream as Lisa gave the hat to the next person and made her way over to the Slytherin table. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be. Not here, not now, not when I needed them.  
  
But of course, Courtney, I heard a little voice inside my head say, of course it's happening now, when you need them. When has anything ever gone the way you wanted it to?  
  
I cursed that little voice.  
  
It was right.  
  
More names were called, but I didn't hear them, I was in too deep a shock.  
  
"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"  
  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" I heard upon coming back into whatever kind of messed up reality I now found myself in. Justin took a seat next to Laura. I envied him.  
  
"Finnigan, Seamus" was declared a Gryffindor.  
  
"Granger, Hermione!"  
  
Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. I saw Ron groan and joined in the applause. Hermione sat down next to me.  
  
"What a relief!" she told me in an exasperated tone of voice and a smile on her face. Relief? What relief? I'm alone! Don't you see that?, I thought.  
  
When Neville Longbottom, still known as the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag." He then sat down across from Hermione and me.  
  
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got what I knew was his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"  
  
Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.  
  
There weren't many people left now.  
  
"Moon" . . . , "Nott". . . , "Parkinson". . . , then another pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil". . . , then "Perks, Sally-Anne". . . , and then, at last -  
  
"Potter, Harry!"  
  
As I watched Harry step forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.  
  
"Potter, did she say?"  
  
"The Harry Potter?"  
  
After Harry had sat on the stool and put the hat on, it took quite some time for the hat to come to a conclusion. I knew, of course, that Harry was begging not to be put into Slytherin. He was gripping the edge of the stool. Everyone was craning trying to get a good look at him.  
  
Finally the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Harry took off the hat and walked over to the Gryffindor table, my table. He was getting the loudest cheer yet, naturally. Percy Weasley, Ron's oldest brother and a prefect, shook Harry's hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite Nearly Headless Nick, who had chosen a seat next to me during the long period of time it took the hat to place Harry. Nick patted his arm and I could only imagine what it must have felt like.  
  
I looked up at the High Table. Hagrid was sitting at the end nearest to us. I saw him give Harry the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. In the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. I hadn't paid much attention to the cards I had gotten in my chocolate frogs on the train and didn't know if I had one of him or not. No matter, I knew it was him by the long silver hair. It was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. I continued to scan the High Table. I spotted Professor Quirrell. He looked rather peculiar in a large purple turban. I also spotted Professor Flitwick, and then my eyes came across Professor Snape. I looked quickly away, he gave me a sickly feeling.  
  
Now there were only four people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined us at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. The hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," not to my amazement.  
  
I clapped loudly with everyone else as Ron collapsed into the chair next to Harry.  
  
"Well done, Ron, excellent," Percy Weasley said pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.  
  
I looked down at my empty gold plate. I suddenly realized how hungry I was, even more than I noticed my grief at being alone. The Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron cakes seemed forever and a day ago.  
  
Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see us all there.  
  
"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!  
  
"Thank you!"  
  
He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Despite my gloom, my stress, and my all around bad mood, I laughed. It felt good.  
  
"Is he - a bit mad?" I heard Harry ask Percy.  
  
"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?" With shock, my mouth fell open along with Harry's. The dishes in front of me were now piled with food. I had never seen so many things to eat on one table, but not all of them were exactly to my liking. There was roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.  
  
I had never had so much food to choose from, not since our visit to Middle Earth at least. Unfortunately, because of that, my stomach shrank, as I mentioned in the beginning. Nonetheless, I piled my plate with a little bit of nearly everything and began to eat. It was all delicious.  
  
I forgot my worries, I forgot my cares, and for the time-span of that dinner, I was truly happy and content.  
  
"That does look good," said Nearly Headless Nick, watching Harry cut up his steak. I stopped hacking at my chicken for a moment.  
  
" Can't you - ?"  
  
"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor tower."  
  
"I know who you are!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. "My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!"  
  
" I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.  
  
"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"  
  
Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.  
  
" Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly.  
  
"Okay, I've lost my appetite," I announced, letting my fork and knife clatter to my plate. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on our faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."  
  
We looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy, who was right next to Lisa. I looked away.  
  
"How did he get covered in blood?" Seamus asked with great interest.  
  
"I've never asked," replied Nearly Headless Nick delicately.  
  
When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding. . .  
  
I was helping myself to some strawberries when the talk turned to our families. My heart gave a jolt. If I went by the story we had told Cedric, my parents were dead. So, what was I to say?  
  
"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mom didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."  
  
We laughed.  
  
"What about you, Neville?" Ron asked.  
  
"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," replied Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Aunt Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."  
  
"And how about you Courtney? You're American, what are you doing here?" Ron asked me. I looked up at him.  
  
"Well, my parents died three years ago so I moved out here with my cousins, the blondes I was with on the train. I remember that neither of my parents showed any real signs of being magic, so I must get it from some other relative," I lied. Not bad, I thought to myself. Everyone got rather quiet.  
  
"I didn't know your parents were dead," Harry said suddenly.  
  
"Well, now you do," I told him.  
  
On the other side of Harry, Percy Weasley was talking to Hermione, who was sitting next to me, about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult- ; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing -")  
  
I was beginning to feel sleepy and wished that the feast would end. I saw Harry looking up at the High Table. My mind was too tired to be sensible and I started thinking freely. He has beautiful eyes. I wonder if he hates me? I wonder what he's looking at? I wonder if. . . My thoughts were interrupted when Harry clapped his hand to his head with a loud, "Ouch!"  
  
"What is it?" Percy asked him.  
  
"N-nothing," he lied, and not very well. "Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" I then heard him ask.  
  
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape." Harry was silent for quite some time after that.  
  
At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.  
  
"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.  
  
"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."  
  
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.  
  
"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.  
  
"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.  
  
"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."  
  
A few people laughed, but not many.  
  
"He's not serious?" I heard Harry ask Percy.  
  
"Must be," Percy replied, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."  
  
"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. I noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.  
  
Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.  
  
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," Dumbledore told us, "and off we go!"  
  
And the school bellowed:  
  
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald Or young with scabby knees, Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff, For now they're bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff. So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we've forgot, Just do you best, we'll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot."  
  
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.  
  
"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"  
  
I got in a crowded line with the other Gryffindors, but was soon being tapped on the shoulder by Professor McGonagall. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you," she told me. Oh God, he knows, they know. We're screwed! I thought, but only nodded in response.  
  
I allowed myself to be led down corridor after corridor, until at last we came to the stone gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's study. Professor McGonagall whispered the password, so I can't tell you what it was. We made our way up a long, winding staircase, and then stopped at a door, on which Professor McGonagall knocked.  
  
"Come in," I heard a voice say. Professor McGonagall opened the door.  
  
"The last one, Professor," she said, and then left me there. Lisa and Laura were already sitting in the room.  
  
"Please, take a seat," Professor Dumbledore told me. I did, away from the other two. I now felt awkward around them. Dumbledore stared at us over his half-moon spectacles, folded his hands and said, "Now, tell me everything." 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Should have done this earlier, but, oh well! I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter. I don't even own the idea, I was just in charge of writing the third book in the Altered Trilogy! So, umm, don't sue I guess!  
  
___________________________________________  
Chapter Three  
"Define everything," Laura said.  
  
"Excuse me?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"The word everything covers a lot of terrain, which part would you like to hear?" Laura explained.  
  
"The part that involves Hogwarts," Dumbledore told her with a twinkle in his eye.  
  
"Oh, well, in other words everything," Lisa remarked. "You can't exactly tell him about what we're doing here unless you tell him about all the other places we went to." Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Lisa," I began, but stopped. It didn't seem right to call her simpleminded when she had a point, at least not anymore.  
  
"Courtney, why don't you begin?" Dumbledore offered.  
  
"No," I refused, shaking my head. That was all. No explanation, no excuse. And no one asked. Instead, I sat silently and listened to Lisa and Laura tell our story, but occasionally filled in some of the details.  
  
When we finished Dumbledore was silent for a time. He peered at us over his half-moon spectacles again. It wasn't a look that made you feel uncomfortable, or that you were in trouble. It simply made you aware that he was looking at you and taking you and your words into consideration. Finally, he said, "That's quite an amazing story." We all nodded our agreement.  
  
Dumbledore stood up and began to pace the room. "As you get settled into your houses," he began, "you will make friends. Now, as much as you may want to share your story, I must ask you not to. I also must ask you not to alter anything. What is meant to happen will, fate will take its hand in whatever lies ahead. Do not try to change anything to the way that you would want it. It can only ruin things."  
  
We sat in silence. We knew this, of course, but we had always gone against it. Now, here was someone telling us that we couldn't change anything, even if it meant saving someone's life. There was no way. We were in the book for a reason, there had to be a reason. If the reason just so happened to be saving someone's life, then we would surely overlook this conversation.  
  
Wouldn't we?  
  
Still, no one was saying anything.  
  
"How, may I ask, did you get home from these other worlds?" Dumbledore asked suddenly. For the first time since the sorting, we all looked at each other. Then, as one, we all gave him an answer.  
  
"Death."  
  
He seemed shocked.  
  
"Death?" he inquired as if to make sure he was hearing right. We all nodded.  
  
Suddenly there came a knock at the door. "Enter," Dumbledore said. Professor McGonagall entered the room.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore," she said, "it's getting rather late. I believe the girls should go to their dormitories."  
  
"Ah, so it is rather late," Dumbledore agreed. "Yes, I believe you're right Professor. Will there be someone to escort them?"  
  
"Yes," Professor McGonagall replied.  
  
"Very well, off you go then girls," Dumbledore told us. We all stood, said our good-byes, and exited the chamber.  
  
In the corridor, Professors Sprout, Snape, and McGonagall waited to take us to our dormitories. We all said goodnight and went our own ways: Laura with Professor Sprout, Lisa with Professor Snape, and me with Professor McGonagall.  
  
The trip to Gryffindor tower was a silent one. I could see Professor McGonagall glancing at me out of the corner of my eye. I wished she would go away, but I didn't know my way to Gryffindor tower, so I figured it was a good thing she was there. Finally, after what seemed like years but was probably only minutes, Professor McGonagall was telling me the password ("Caput Draconis") and where the girls' dormitories were located ("...up the stairs to your right."), and then she left me to get some sleep. I walked inside and found that the common room was, amazingly, empty. Everyone must have been really tired.  
  
I made my way up the spiral staircase and found the door to the girls' dormitories. I opened it and everyone in the room looked up at me, Hermione being one of them. "Hi, sorry I'm late," I told them. They shrugged and looked away from me. There were five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. The trunks had already been brought up, I saw, and I was the only person who hadn't unpacked.  
  
I was sharing a room with Hermione, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, and some girl named Jennifer Dipple, not the most pleasing of combinations. I knelt down and began taking things out of my trunk. I came across a wand, which I held in my hand for quite some time. Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy, I thought to myself. Then, startled, I dropped the wand back into my trunk. How did I know that? I had never actually been in Diagon Alley, been in Ollivanders. Had I? No, it was impossible. I tried to shrug it off, but it was too crazy. I tried to at least act like nothing weird had happened.  
  
I continued unpacking.  
  
I pulled out pajamas, some spare robes, a hat, winter accessories, etc. I then realized that my owl was missing. It took a moment to register that she was probably in the owlery with all of the others. I changed into my pajamas, deciding to leave the rest of my unpacking for another time, and climbed into the bed that had apparently been left for me. To bring myself down from the high I had been in since I had arrived, I brushed my hair and absently gazed off into nothingness. The lights had been turned off without me noticing much. I laid my brush on the table beside my bed, pulled my curtains shut, and rested my head on my pillow.  
  
I thought about a lot of things before I finally fell asleep. I wondered what Lisa and Laura were doing; I tried to calculate how long we had been gone from home (about a second) and then stifled a laugh. I wondered if anyone in the theater had seen us disappear. I turned over and lay on my back. I began to think about our past two "adventures". Animorphs was my least favorite by a landslide, I mean, where's the nobility in falling out of a tree to your death? Plus, I had never really caught on to the whole morphing thing. I smiled. The Lord of the Rings was a different story. I liked it there, as much as I complained about it. I'm glad I went to Helm's Deep, got a chance to prove myself. Absently I ran my hand over my stomach. My fingers ran over long risen lines that were my battle scars. They were my souvenirs.  
  
My painful souvenirs.  
  
A shiver ran up my spine and a tear down my cheek. Had I really killed so many people? Had I really once been thought of as a warrior? Me? It all seemed like a dream now.  
  
Those scars were reminders that it hadn't all a dream, it had been real.  
  
The pain, the emotions, the people, the fights. They had all been real. They had all happened. I had actually been shot by arrows, had felt the sting of cold steel on my skin, been covered in blood that was both my own and my enemy's.  
  
My thoughts soon faded into dreams. Horrid dreams. They took me back to every battle I had ever fought in, every wound I had ever gotten.  
I woke covered in sweat, quite aware of every muscle in my body. I was sore, as if the dreams had happened. Slowly, I drew my curtain aside and saw out the window the faint glimmer of early morning sun. I painfully rolled out of my bed and softly hit the floor with my bare feet. My hair was sticking every which way so I flattened it out the best I could and quietly got dressed.  
  
The robes felt good. They weren't tight at all. They were a nuisance being so long and all. Not fit at all for fighting. I shook my head to get rid of such thoughts. I wasn't fighting, I was going to school. I brushed my hair again and pulled it back into a ponytail. That felt better. Then I grabbed my shoes and tiptoed out of the dormitory. By now it was dawn and the common room had a comfortable glow about it. The fire that had been crackling when I had entered last night had gone out, but I curled up in a big squashy armchair all the same to enjoy the sunlight. Ever since Lord of the Rings, I had learned to appreciate the sun. You see in Middle Earth the sun was rarely ever able to conquer the overwhelming darkness and therefore you didn't see it much, and when the sun isn't out, it gets cold.  
  
Anyway, I put my shoes on and tried to relax. I figured it would be a while before anyone joined me, but I was wrong. About twenty minutes later I heard a door creak open and I looked up. To my amazement, it was Harry. He seemed surprised to see me sitting there, but continued into the room and sat in an armchair opposite me. "Have you been awake long?" he asked me quietly. His voice shattered the silence, and I wished he hadn't come down. It was so rare to have silence.  
  
"Only an hour or so," I replied. He seemed a bit shocked at this answer. "Why are you up so early?" I asked.  
  
"No reason," he lied. I knew he had been awoken by a dream. I smiled to myself. "Why are you up so early?"  
  
"Habit," I told him truthfully. You can't hang around with Aragorn and the rest of the men without being on a strict sleep routine. I swear, I was forced to go for two days on, if I was lucky, three hours of sleep. Between being on watch and running after Lisa, Merry, and Pippin, that didn't give you much time to sleep anyway. It's not like I hadn't wanted to, I mean it was always dark enough, but Aragorn (and his sword) wouldn't have it.  
  
"You're the girl who ran into me on the train, aren't you?" he asked. I blushed and nodded my head. "Courtney, wasn't it?"  
  
"Yeah," I replied, then smiled. "No need to ask your name." Harry quickly tried to flatten his hair over his scar. I laughed silently. "I'm sorry, you must be sick of people gawking at you."  
  
"Just a bit," he said, but seemed to relax some.  
  
"Harry?" Ron's voice came suddenly, loud and clear, from the boys' dormitories. Startled I stood up. My hand was by my side, prepared to draw the sword I didn't have. Ron, however, wasn't the only one descending from the dormitories.  
  
And off to breakfast I went with everyone else.  
  
I got lost on the way there, though, and was forced to scarf it down.  
"There, look."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."  
  
"Wearing the glasses?"  
  
"Did you see his face?"  
  
"Did you see his scar?"  
  
Whispers had followed Harry from the moment he had left his dormitory. How did I know? Because I was always right behind the person (or persons) whispering. People lined up outside of classrooms and stood up on tiptoe to get a look at him, or even doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Even I was getting annoyed; I could only imagine how Harry felt. On top of that, we couldn't find our way to our classes (and I thought my middle school was hard to get around)!  
  
Now, since you've never been to Hogwarts and I have, let me describe a little something to you. There are a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that lead somewhere different on Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you have to remember to jump. Then, as if the staircases aren't enough, there are doors that won't open unless you ask politely, or tickle them in exactly the right place, and some doors that aren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending (trust me on this one, I nearly lost about seven of my teeth and my nose because of these so called "doors"). Not to mention that it is very, very hard to remember where anything is, because it all seems to move around a lot. The people in the portraits keep going to visit each other, and I'm sure that the suits of armor can talk.  
  
The ghosts, of course, didn't help, either. It is always a nasty shock when one of them glides suddenly through the door you're trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick found it a pleasure to direct new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist, now he is worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you meet him when you're late for class. He drops wastepaper baskets on your head, pulls rugs from under your feet, pelts you with bits of chalk, or sneaks up behind you, invisible, grabs your nose, and screeches, "GOT YOUR CONK!" Between walls pretending to be doors and Peeves, my poor nose will never be the same.  
  
Even worse than Peeves, if that's possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. I don't know about anyone else, but Harry, Ron, and I managed to get on the wrong side of him on our very first morning. Then again, I don't know why it surprised me, I manage to get on the wrong side of a lot of people in our first meeting. Anyway, I had lost all traces of any fellow Gryffindors, so, wandering alone through the corridors, I came across the door to the third floor corridor. Here I found Harry and Ron trying to force their way through a door. Now, at the time, I didn't realize that it was the third floor corridor, otherwise I would have warned them. Filch came around a corner, saw the three of us standing there, and we were soon under the wrath of a man who hated every child on the face of the earth. He wouldn't believe that we were lost, was sure that we were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock us in the dungeons when we were somewhat rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing. I didn't exactly consider it rescuing, then again, I knew what he was hiding.  
  
As you may know, Filch has a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust- colored creature with bulging, lamplike eyes just like Filch's. Now, I love cats, I adore them, really, but this cat is the cat from Hell! She patrols the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'll whisk off for Filch, who always appeared, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. We all hated him, and it was everyone's dearest ambition, yes, even mine, to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.  
  
And then, once you have managed to find them, there are the classes themselves. There is a lot more magic, as I quickly learned along with everyone else, than just waving your wand and saying a few funny words.  
  
We had to study the night skies through our telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week we went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout (an appropriate name if I do say so myself), where we learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.  
  
Easily the most boring class, even worse than math, was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while we scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.  
  
Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of our first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. This was particularly interesting to me, as I had a front row seat and could see everything.  
  
Professor McGonagall was again different. I had been right to think that she wasn't a teacher to cross, and that she would be yelling at me for a good portion of the year. However, the yelling did not start on the first day in her class. Strict and clever, she gave us a talking-to the moment we sat down in her first class.  
  
"Transfiguration in some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she told us. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."  
  
So sorry, Professor McGonagall, but messing around will be at its most meaningful level yet with me in your class. Aragorn couldn't scare me with his sword, Ax couldn't scare me with his razor-blade tail, and you can't scare me with your words, your stares, and your wand.  
  
Okay, this was all a complete bluff. Aragorn had scared me with his sword, Ax did scare me with his razor-blade tail, and she could scare me with her words, her stares, and her wand. Especially her wand.  
  
She then changed her desk into a pig and back again. We were all very impressed, even me, and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized we weren't going to be changing furniture into animals for a long time. In other words, I would never change furniture into animals. After taking a lot of complicated notes, we were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. I grinned too. Hermione saw me and blushed.  
  
The class we had all been really looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke, as I had expected. I was really only interested in keeping an eye on him. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told us, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but no one was sure they believed the story. I, for one, knew it was a bunch of bull. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, we had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. I knew this was a bunch of bull as well.  
  
Friday was an important day for, I think, all of the first years. It was the day that we finally managed to find our way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.  
  
"What have we got today?" I heard Harry ask Ron. I poured some sugar on my porridge and listened. Hermione was sitting next to me, Harry and Ron across from me.  
  
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron replied. My spoon clattered onto the table in mid-bite and I was sprayed with porridge. Double Potions with the Slytherins? With Lisa? No, not today, not ever! Everyone ignored me as I wiped porridge off my robes. "Snape's head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true."  
  
"Wish McGonagall favored us," Harry said. Professor McGonagall was, of course, head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving us all a huge pile of homework the day before.  
  
Just then, the mail arrived. We had all gotten used to this by now, but it had given most of us a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owner, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.  
  
My owl, which I had decided to call Pepita (Pep for short), hadn't brought me anything yet. Not that I expected anything. She usually flew in to nibble my ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. I noticed that Harry's owl, Hedwig, did the same. However, this morning, both Hedwig and Pep brought notes. Pep's note was almost as big as she was. You see, Pep is an Elf Owl, and she's only about six inches long. I laughed a little at the sight of her. Harry's note, when dropped by Hedwig, landed on his plate, mine landed in my porridge. I could tell it was going to be a lousy day. I picked up the note, cleaned it off, and ripped it open. Pep began nibbling on my toast as I read.  
Courtney, We need to talk, you, me, and Lisa. Tonight in the library. Meet us there at 8:30. See ya later! ~Laura  
8:30? Wasn't that kind of late? Oh well. I folded the letter and tucked it inside my robe. I then stroked Pep and relaxed. I didn't feel much like finishing my contorted porridge or my nibbled on toast. It was going to be an interesting day.  
  
Did I say an interesting day? Sorry, I underestimated it.  
  
Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder there than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.  
  
Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused when he got to Harry's name.  
  
"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."  
  
Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands, as well as Lisa. I was a bit astonished to say the least. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His stare fell on me for a time, enough time to spark a little fear. I wished now more than ever I had my sword. His eyes were black, no, make that empty, dark. They had no real color. It was worse than being stared at by Aragorn. At least he smiled every once in awhile. Even Tobias' hawk eyes were better than Snape's dark tunnels, and that's saying something! It was hard to fight in front of Aragorn, it was hard (well, harder) to morph in front of Tobias, and I knew it was going to be Hell trying to conjure up a potion with Snape breathing down my back. I suddenly wished I was back at Helm's Deep.  
  
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but we caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."  
  
More silence followed this little speech. I looked across the room at Lisa, and even she looked a little unsure. What she failed to realize was that she had the advantage, she was in Snape's house! She was immune! Her and Laura both! Lisa was in Slytherin, therefore favored by Snape. Laura wasn't dumb enough to get in trouble with Snape. I was the only dunderhead (as everyone liked to put it there) who was liable to get busted!  
  
Hermione Granger, unlike myself, was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.  
  
"Potter!" Snape said suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"  
  
Powdered root of what? To an infusion of what what? I thought. Then smiled as I remembered an inside joke between Lisa and myself. Oops, I think Snape saw my happiness. He was determined to demolish it.  
  
Hermione's hand shot into the air.  
  
"I don't know, sir," Harry replied.  
  
Snape's lips curled into a sneer. Okay, not so bad, I wasn't the only one smiling anymore. Ooh, still bad, he was looking at me. Cover the teeth, that's it. Okay, I'm good to go.  
  
"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything," Snape said, saving me from embarrassment and placing it on Harry. Wait, was that a good thing? Sure it was, I wasn't in trouble yet!  
  
Snape ignored Hermione's hand.  
  
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"  
  
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but I don't believe that anyone else in the room, especially Harry, had any idea what the hell a bezoar was. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were shaking with laughter.  
  
"I don't know, sir," I heard Harry say again.  
  
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" I noticed that Harry just kept looking straight into Snape's eyes. I could only imagine the thoughts running through his mind.  
  
Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.  
  
"What is the difference, Caillet, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Was that my name? Oh shit, what now? Answer him? Sure, why not.  
  
"There is no difference, sir, they're the same plant. It also goes by the name of aconite," I said softly. I believe my heart ceased to beat, and I couldn't breathe. Snape seemed infuriated that I knew the answer. I smiled to myself. Heh heh, take that!  
  
Hermione's hand was still in the air, but a look of disappointment was on her face.  
  
"If you want the answer to the rest of your questions," I continued, and I swear it was against my will, "you might want to try Hermione." Why? Why me? I tried to force myself to wake up from the nightmare.  
  
It wasn't working.  
  
Now I think it's fair to say, he hated me.  
  
A few people laughed, I wish they hadn't. Snape was not pleased, nope, not in the least.  
  
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter . . ." Oh good, we were back to picking on Harry. "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Dead. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. And, as your friend here so graciously explained," he shot a look at me, "monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying this down?"  
  
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your classmate's cheek." He looked at me again. I wished he would stop doing that.  
  
Things did not improve for us Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put us all into pairs and set us to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. Guess who my partner was? Snape swept around in his long black cloak, watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.  
  
"Idiot boy," Snape snarled, cleaning the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"  
  
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.  
  
Lisa pulled her hand, which was filled with porcupine quills, back towards her body while I removed our cauldron from the fire.  
  
"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.  
  
"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point lost for Gryffindor."  
  
I saw Harry open his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron. He then muttered something in his ear. I looked back at Lisa. She dumped the porcupine quills into our cauldron and gave me a small smile. I began to stir our potion.  
  
An hour later we climbed the steps out of the dungeon. "I'll see you tonight," Lisa whispered, then she pushed me and walked off with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. I caught myself before hitting the ground and laughed.  
  
Tonight.  
  
I grimaced slightly. That one word screamed trouble.  
  
So, that night, after dinner was over and everyone was in the common room working on their homework, I got up to leave the tower. "Where are you going?" Hermione, who had been sitting with me, asked.  
  
"To the bathroom, I'll be back soon," I lied. Then I left.  
  
I somehow managed to find the library, where Madam Pince, the librarian, didn't seem to be anywhere around. I snuck to the back of the library, acting as though I was looking for a book.  
  
"Psst," I heard suddenly. I jumped and turned around. There stood Laura and Lisa in the darkest corner possible. I walked over and they drew me into the shadows.  
  
"Okay, why did we meet in the library?" I asked. "This is the best place for trouble." I suppose Laura grinned, Lisa probably did as well.  
  
"Shut-up and listen," Laura told me. "While we're here you and Lisa have to act like you hate each other, right? Okay, you have to buddy up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Lisa, you buddy up with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle."  
  
"What about you?" Lisa asked.  
  
"I'm the unofficial leader, remember? I make the plans, I call the shots, and you two do the dirty work."  
  
I laughed silently with Lisa. "Now then, we had better get back to our common rooms before . . ." She was cut short by a most unwelcome voice.  
  
"Caillet, is that you?"  
  
Snape!  
  
Suddenly, Laura hit a button on a watch around her wrist, and Lisa shrank into the form of a fly. No way! They had their powers and hadn't told me! I was alone, and Snape was walking toward me, I could hear his feet. I didn't have the nerve to turn around.  
  
"Caillet, come with me," I heard Snape sneer.  
  
I turned around and he led me away. I didn't look up at him, I could feel his glee. This was turning out to be a very bad week. 


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
Professor Snape led me to his office, the last place I wanted to be. I had been working up excuses the whole long walk, but they each got more outrageous as they chased each other around my mind. Soon, too soon for comfort, Snape was telling me to sit down, which I did, as he took a seat behind his desk. "Now, tell me what you were doing in the library when you should have been in Gryffindor tower with your classmates," he said with an uncomfortable sneer.  
  
"I was looking for a book," I lied. I refrained from thinking anything, because I knew what the thoughts would sound like.  
  
"What kind of book?" Snape asked.  
  
"On owls," I replied slowly. On owls?  
  
"Why exactly were you searching for a book on owls? Don't you know how to take care of yours?" Snape inquired smartly. You've got a point, I thought.  
  
"Well, yes, but I wanted to know how big of a distance she could cover," I told him.  
  
"Did you not think to inquire after that when you purchased her?" Snape asked. That would have been a good idea, I thought.  
  
"Not really," I replied. Snape just looked at me, but there was laughter dancing in his stare.  
  
"Did you find out what you wanted to know?"  
  
"No," I told him helplessly. He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.  
  
"I see." Then he got up to pace the room. I hate when teachers do that, nothing good ever follows. "So," he began, "you went to the library when you should have been in Gryffindor tower, when Madam Pince wasn't there, to look for information that you didn't find. Is that about correct?" I wanted to smack him but decided against it.  
  
"Yes, sir," was all I could say.  
  
"You weren't meeting anyone there, were you?"  
  
"No, sir," I lied.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Why? Did you think you saw someone?"  
  
"No, I thought I heard Lisa Davis's voice." I didn't say anything.  
  
"May I go now, sir?" I asked after a minute or so.  
  
"Yes," Snape replied, but as I made to leave the dungeon he called out, "Caillet." I turned and looked at him. "Note that five points will be taken from Gryffindor, and feel lucky I didn't take more." Or give me detention, I thought. I was a bit relieved to be honest. I had thought he was going to have me expelled or something. I walked back to Gryffindor tower alone, silent.  
  
By the time I got back into the common room it was 9:00. "What happened?" Hermione asked me as I sat down.  
  
"I got lost," I lied lamely. It was going to be a long year.  
It had been about a week since my trouble with Snape. Luckily, no one had noticed that there was now seven points missing instead of two. I hadn't seen Lisa or Laura since that night, and I knew that I only had to face Lisa during Potions.  
  
That was until I saw the notice.  
  
Pinned up in the Gryffindor common room was a notice that Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning to fly together. Great. I groaned with the rest and plopped down in an armchair.  
  
Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't objecting to flying. As a matter-of- fact, I was rather looking forward to learning to fly. However, I was objecting to learning with the Slytherins, with Lisa. Granted, I had already made a fool of myself in front of her more times than I care to remember, learning to use a sword is one of them, but we're talking about flying here. Knowing my luck I would slide off the end of my broom and break a bone or something. She'd get a kick out of that.  
  
The knowledge that I wasn't the only person who had never flown before gave me a little comfort. Actually, it gave me a lot of comfort. Take Neville for example. His grandmother had never even let him near a broomstick, seeing as how Neville had enough accidents with both feet on the ground.  
  
Hermione was nervous because flying was one thing you couldn't learn by heart out of a book. She tried of course, boring us with flying tips that she had gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages at breakfast on Thursday. Neville hung on to her every word, but the rest of us were quite pleased when she was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.  
  
A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed us all a glass ball the size of a large marble, which was full of white smoke.  
  
"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things --- this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red --- oh . . ." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, " . . . you've forgotten something . . ."  
  
Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Lisa was close behind him with a rather cold smirk on her face. Now, Lisa is my best friend in the whole world, and she's a good actress as well. These are the reasons why I didn't want her hanging out with Malfoy's crowd. It would ruin her to the point of total destruction. That's exactly why I wanted to get up and smack the grin off of her face.  
  
Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, just praying for a reason to hit Malfoy. I got to my feet to hit Lisa. Professor McGonagall, however, could spot trouble a mile away and was on the scene in a flash.  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"Malfoy's got my Remembrall professor," Neville explained.  
  
Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.  
  
"Just looking," he lied, and then he sloped away with Crabbe, Goyle, and Lisa behind him. We all took our seats again and Professor McGonagall left.  
At three-thirty that afternoon, all of the Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for our first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under our feet as we made our way down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The forest reminded me a lot of Fangorn Forest. A shudder ran up my spine in remembrance and I blocked such memories out of my mind, at least for now.  
  
The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. I saw Lisa still standing near Malfoy with the same smirk on her face. Now I really wanted to slap her. I chose the spot right across from her and gave her a good stare down. Her smile never faltered, but the gleam in her eyes did. I was the only one who noticed any difference.  
  
Madam Hooch, our teacher, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. Like Tobias, I thought. I shook the thought out of my head and tried not to look in her eyes.  
  
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."  
  
Everyone stepped up beside a broomstick. I looked down at mine; it didn't look too promising. It was old, there was no doubt about that, and there were twigs sticking out at odd angles here and there. I looked up at Lisa again. We grinned at each other and waited for instructions.  
  
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch called at the front, "and say 'UP!'"  
  
"UP!" everyone shouted. I suppose after all of the ordeals we had been through Lisa and I had gotten more forceful because our brooms shot straight into our grasp. Ours were only a couple of the few that did so, however. We looked around and saw that Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Brooms must be able to sense when you're afraid; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only to clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Malfoy's broom jumped into his hand on his second try, and he seemed quite pleased with himself. Lisa looked at him and made a face of disgust. I stifled a laugh.  
  
Madam Hooch then showed us how to mount our brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting everyone's grip. Lisa and I hit it head on, and were rather delighted, to say the least, when Madam Hooch told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.  
  
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch instructed. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle --- three --- two ---"  
  
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.  
  
"Come back boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle --- twelve feet --- twenty feet. I could see his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and ---  
  
WHAM --- a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. I had covered my face in the process of his fall but now had the nerve to look.  
  
Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.  
  
"Broken wrist," she muttered. "Come on, boy --- it's all right, up you get." Now, don't think she said it harshly, she wasn't angry. She said it with as much compassion as she could and then helped him gently off the ground.  
  
She turned to the rest of the class.  
  
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on dear."  
  
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.  
  
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.  
  
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"  
  
The other Slytherins joined in, including Lisa. I rounded on all of them.  
  
"Shut-up Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil before I could.  
  
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" inquired Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."  
  
"Better than sticking up for greased down jackasses," I shot back, referring to Malfoy of course. Ever single Slytherin within hearing distance rounded on me. Not to worry, I'd had worse odds before, of course, I'd had my sword with me at the time.  
  
Lisa was the first to take action. She hit me, hard. A wink went along with it, but I didn't care. I punched her back. We had a hold on each other's hair when Malfoy said, "Look!" and darted forward to snatch something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."  
  
The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.  
  
"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.  
  
Malfoy smiled nastily.  
  
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find --- how about --- up a tree?"  
  
"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He definitely could ride well, but I was past the point of caring, my head was beginning to hurt. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak Malfoy called, "Come and get it Potter!"  
  
Harry grabbed his broom.  
  
"No!" Hermione Granger shouted. "Madam Hooch told us not to move --- you'll get us all into trouble."  
  
Harry ignored her, naturally. He mounted his broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared. Everyone watched as he pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher and a few girls gasped in our little crowd, and Ron gave an admiring whoop.  
  
I didn't see exactly what happened from that point because Lisa tackled me to the ground and we were soon in all out combat. She was probably more deadly than me, but I'd been in too many battles not to know how to quickly dodge any life threatening blows, which was what Lisa was throwing. Soon it was no longer a game, we were actually fighting one another. We had each other in a very painful grip on the ground and each seemed to be trying to strangle the other. I could taste blood in my mouth, and my head felt like it was splitting open. I gasped for air and coughed. Blood spluttered onto Lisa's face and, realizing that she was actually killing me, she released her grip. There were tears on my cheeks and hers as well.  
  
"HARRY POTTER!" Professor McGonagall's strict voice brought us back to the scene around us. Harry and Malfoy were both back on the ground, Harry with the Remembrall clutched in his fist. Professor McGonagall was running toward us. I didn't have the strength to get up. Apparently Lisa didn't either.  
  
"Never --- in all my time at Hogwarts ---"  
  
Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, " --- how dare you --- might have broken your neck ---"  
  
"It wasn't his fault, Professor ---"  
  
"Be quiet, Miss Patil ---"  
  
"But Malfoy ---"  
  
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."  
  
As Professor McGonagall began to lead Harry away, she caught sight of Lisa and me. She stopped in shock. "Miss Caillet? Miss Davis?" We looked helplessly up at her. "You two come with me as well."  
  
With much difficulty Lisa and I got up off the ground. I was out; there was no question about it. Maybe I could stay with Hagrid, help him out. And wait to die, I thought. I held my head as we walked, both in shame and in agony. Everyone was silent. The echoes of our footfalls on the stone floor resonated for all to hear. It was the walk of shame.  
  
Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still no one said a word. Doors were wrenched open and we were led along corridors. I didn't think about where we were going, I couldn't. I began to cry with helplessness and pain. I wanted to go home, now!  
  
Suddenly we came to a stop in front of the school hospital. "You two, go inside. I'll be by soon to discuss your punishment." Then Professor McGonagall walked off with Harry and Lisa and I were left outside the hospital. I continued to cry. I was mad at Lisa, yet I still wanted her company, her condolence. I looked at her, she looked at me.  
  
"I'm sorry," we said together, and then we embraced. I realized that she had been crying as well. After we released one another no eye contact was made, no verbal interaction. We just simply opened the door and walked into the hospital.  
  
I think it's safe to say that I got the worse end of the fight. I was in definite pain and the potions that Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, forced down my throat didn't help my stomach any. Needless to say, by the time I got back to Gryffindor tower, I felt like shit.  
  
Professor McGonagall had come by and talked to Lisa and me. She only took a point away from each house, thank God. We got out of detention somehow, but every time she saw me in her class from that day forward, there was a look of disappointment in her eyes. That was worse than any punishment she could have given.  
  
At dinner that night I hardly ate anything. What I did manage to get down, and keep down, was plenty to hold me over until the next morning. Harry was telling Ron about what had happened after McGonagall had led him inside.  
  
"You're joking," Ron said. "Seeker? But first years never --- you must be the youngest house player in about ---"  
  
"--- a century," Harry finished, shoveling pie into his mouth. I couldn't watch, it made me sick. "Wood told me."  
  
Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry, forgetting entirely about the pie on his plate.  
  
"I start training next week," Harry continued. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."  
  
Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.  
  
"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too --- Beaters."  
  
"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," Fred remarked. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."  
  
"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."  
  
"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."  
  
Okay, let's just get one thing straight. I was not eavesdropping on the conversations. My hearing just happens to be very good. Besides, they were talking louder than was wise, so don't think I'm a bad person or anything. I was not eavesdropping. Now that we've got that cleared up, on with the story.  
  
Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. I sat up straight with a bit of difficulty and realized Lisa wasn't with them.  
  
"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"  
  
"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," Harry said coolly. There's nothing little about Crabbe and Goyle of course, but in the Great Hall with all the teachers watching there was nothing they could do but crack their knuckles and scowl.  
  
"Speaking of buddies," I intervened, "where's your other little friend?"  
  
"Lisa? She's over at the table recovering from what you did to her." I nearly lost my temper again, but stayed seated nonetheless.  
  
"The only reason Courtney attacked her was because she attacked first, to save your dignity," Harry remarked. "Isn't there anything you can do Malfoy?"  
  
" I'd take you on anytime on my own," Malfoy spat. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only --- no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of wizard's duel before, I suppose?"  
  
"Of course he has," Ron said, wheeling around in his seat. "I'm his second, who's yours?"  
  
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.  
  
"Crabbe," he replied. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."  
  
When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. I relaxed in my seat again and watched them.  
  
"What is a wizard's duel?" Harry asked. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"  
  
"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," Ron replied casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. I looked away. He must have seen the look on Harry's face because he quickly added, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."  
  
"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"  
  
"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested. I laughed.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
We all three looked up and saw Hermione Granger.  
  
"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" Ron inquired.  
  
Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.  
  
"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying ---"  
  
"Bet you could," Ron muttered.  
  
" --- and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."  
  
"And it's really none of your business," Harry told her.  
  
"Good bye," Ron said.  
  
Hermione huffed away, and I would have gone with her if I'd had the energy. Instead I decided to talk with her after dinner.  
"Hermione, really, there's no point in stopping them. If they don't get in trouble for this today it's just something else tomorrow." I tried to convince Hermione to forget about the duel. It wasn't working.  
  
"I should tell Ron's brother Percy, he's a prefect."  
  
"No! No, no, no!" I took a deep breath. "Okay, you can wait up for them, but not without me."  
  
"Fine." Then we lay awake in bed awaiting midnight.  
  
This probably won't be the last time I ask this, but, why me?  
Midnight drew nearer and nearer and Hermione and I snuck down to the common room. We heard someone and came to a halt. If I had remembered that she was going to say something, I would have tried to shut Hermione up. Instead, she said, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."  
  
She lit the lamp that she'd brought down. It lit her pink bathrobe and her frown. It lit up my flannel pajamas and thorough embarrassment.  
  
"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed, both of you."  
  
"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped. "Percy --- he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."  
  
"Oh? And what made you change your mind?" Ron asked smugly.  
  
"Courtney," Hermione replied. Harry and Ron both looked at me. Instinct told me to look at the floor, but instead I continued looking at them.  
  
"Come on," Harry said to Ron. Then they pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady that covered the entrance to Gryffindor tower and climbed through the hole.  
  
I was all for going back to bed, but Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed the two boys through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose. I didn't have much of a choice; I went out after her.  
  
"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."  
  
"Go away." I just stood there quietly.  
  
"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so ---"  
  
No one ever found out what they were because Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and we were all locked out of Gryffindor tower.  
  
"Now what are we going to do?" she asked me shrilly. I shrugged and turned to Harry and Ron.  
  
"That's your problem," Ron told her. "We've got to go, we're going to be late." Before they could get very far, I stopped them.  
  
"Do you mind if I tag along? Maybe I could be of some use." They both shrugged in reply and continued walking. Hermione looked outraged, but I simply waved at her and shrugged again. There was nothing else for it, we had to go.  
  
We hadn't reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with us.  
  
"I'm coming with you," she said.  
  
"You are not."  
  
"You let her come," Hermione said, pointing to me.  
  
"She didn't want to rat us out!" Ron replied.  
  
Ignoring him, Hermione said, "Besides, d'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up." Notice she said, 'I was trying to stop you.' Apparently I was the enemy now. Oh well, nothing new there.  
  
"You've got some nerve," Ron told her loudly.  
  
"Shut up, both of you!" Harry said sharply. "I heard something."  
  
It was a sort of snuffling.  
  
"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.  
  
It wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as we crept nearer. I rushed over to him to make sure he was all right.  
  
"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."  
  
"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's "Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."  
  
"How's your arm?" Harry asked.  
  
"Fine," Neville replied, showing us. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute.  
  
"Good --- well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later ---"  
  
"Don't leave me!" Neville cried, scrambling to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already.  
  
"Just let him come," I told them. "If any of us get caught Gryffindor's in trouble anyway. We might as well stay together."  
  
Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione, Neville, and then me.  
  
"If any of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned the Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."  
  
Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned all of us forward.  
  
We flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn we expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but we got lucky. We sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.  
  
Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. We edged along the walls, keeping our eyes on the doors at either end of the room. I saw Harry take his wand out, a smart move in my opinion. The minutes crept by though, and still no sign of Malfoy.  
  
Maybe it was because of my near fatal fight with Lisa, or maybe I was just stressed, but one way or the other it never occurred to me to tell everyone that we had entered a trap. That is, until it was too late.  
  
"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.  
  
Then a noise in the next room made us all jump. I reached for my wand as Harry raised his. Then we heard someone speak --- and it sure as hell wasn't Malfoy.  
  
"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."  
  
It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Harry began waving madly at the rest of us to follow his as quickly as possible; we scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when we heard Filch enter the trophy room.  
  
"They're in here somewhere," we heard him mutter, "probably hiding."  
  
"This way!" Harry mouthed to all of us and, petrified, we began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. We could hear Filch getting nearer. I began to pick up my pace and was soon in front of Harry.  
  
Quite suddenly and painfully I rammed into something, something kind of squishy. I let out a startled yelp, which gave Neville a bit of a scare, and he rammed into Ron and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.  
  
The clanging, crashing, and cursing was enough to wake the whole castle.  
  
"RUN!" Harry yelled.  
  
And that's just what we did.  
  
Not looking back to see whether Filch was following we swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead again. I knew he had no idea where he was leading us, but we ripped through a tapestry and found ourselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near our Charms classroom, which we all knew was miles from the trophy room.  
  
"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.  
  
"I --- told --- you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I --- told --- you."  
  
"Hermione, be quiet for just one minute," I snapped, hardly out of breath. "I want to know who the hell I bumped into." I took a step closer to the person and saw before me a particularly familiar face. "Oh hell no! Hell no! Lisa! Haven't we been through enough today?" She smiled.  
  
"I came to warn you," she whispered so that only I could hear her.  
  
"A little late for that, don't you think?" I said hysterically.  
  
"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," Ron said suddenly, "quickly as possible."  
  
"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione remarked. "You realize that, don't you Harry? He was never going to meet you --- Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."  
  
"I suppose you helped him?" Ron said to Lisa. I sensed a fight coming on and intervened.  
  
"It doesn't matter, Ron. What matters is that we get back to Gryffindor tower."  
  
"She's right," Harry said. "Let's go."  
  
It wasn't going to be that simple, naturally. We hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of us.  
  
It was Peeves. He caught sight of us and gave a squeal of delight.  
  
"Shut up, Peeves --- please --- you'll get us thrown out."  
  
Peeves cackled. That was the point!  
  
"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."  
  
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."  
  
"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."  
  
"Get out of the way," snapped Ron. He took a swipe at Peeves, I tried to stop him, but ---  
  
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"  
  
Ducking under Peeves, we ran for our lives, right to the end of the corridor where we slammed into a door --- and it was locked.  
  
"This is it!" Ron moaned, as we pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"  
  
We could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeve's shouts.  
  
"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed my wand, which I had forgotten I had in my hand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"  
  
The lock clicked and the door swung open --- we all piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed our ears against it, listening.  
  
"Which way did they go Peeves?" Filch was asking. "Quick, tell me."  
  
"Say 'please.'"  
  
"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"  
  
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.  
  
"All right --- please."  
  
"NOTHING! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And we heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.  
  
"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be okay -- - get off, Neville!" Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute. "What?"  
  
We all turned around to look at Neville --- and we all saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, I was sure we had all walked into a nightmare --- this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.  
  
We weren't in a room, as we had assumed. We were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. We now knew why it was forbidden.  
  
We were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in our direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. Now, I've seen my share of strange creatures, we all have, but this three-headed dog I think tops them all.  
  
It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at us. We all knew the only reason why we weren't already dead was that our sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.  
  
Three people went for the doorknob at the same time: Harry, Lisa, and me. Between Filch and death, we all chose Filch.  
  
We fell backward --- Harry slammed the door shut, and we ran, we almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for us somewhere else, because we didn't see him anywhere, but we hardly cared --- all we wanted to do was put as much space as possible between us and that monster. Lisa parted from our group at some point during our get-away. I hadn't noticed when. We didn't stop running until we reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.  
  
"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at the bathrobes hanging off shoulders and our flushed, sweaty faces.  
  
"Never mind that --- pig snout, pig snout!" we all yelled the password together. The portrait swung forward and we scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs. Jeez, and I thought Helm's Deep would be training enough for anything. Boy was I wrong!  
  
It took a while for any of use to say anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.  
  
"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" Ron said finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."  
  
Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again.  
  
"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped.  
  
"I do," I said drowsily, raising my hand a bit. She sighed in exasperation.  
  
"Didn't you see what it was standing on?"  
  
"The floor?" Harry suggested. I smiled. " I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."  
  
"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."  
  
She stood up, glaring at us all.  
  
"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed --- or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."  
  
Ron stared after her, his mouth open.  
  
"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Don't worry, she'll get better," I promised. Then I yawned and stood up. "I think I'll go to bed as well. Good night all." No one replied. Harry was deep in thought, Ron was pissed off, and Neville was still speechless. I climbed the spiral staircase up to the girls' dormitories. It had been a very interesting day.  
  
I climbed into bed and shut my eyes. Suddenly, I turned onto my side and looked at Hermione. "Why don't you cut the guys some slack?" I asked her quietly.  
  
"What, are you taking their side now?" she asked.  
  
"No, but we're going to be stuck together for seven years, you might as well be friendly with each other."  
  
No reply.  
  
"All right, then. Good night." I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes again. I hoped Lisa had made it back all right. Then I began to wonder what Laura was doing. Sleeping, like a normal person, I thought. I smiled and drifted off into a restless sleep full of three-headed dogs, ghosts popping out of walls, and green light.  
  
I woke up not a happy camper. I was getting out of my no sleep routine. Where was Aragorn when you needed him? 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Hermione refused to talk to any of us, which I for one didn't mind. My head still hurt, but this time from my lack of sleep, or my dreams, one of the two. I wasn't in a very talkative mood. Harry was busy filling Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts by Hagrid at the very beginning of the year. I learned quickly that the break-in at Gringotts had already taken place, and I had been totally oblivious to it. Oh well. Like I said before, I was not eavesdropping! But this is how their conversation went from there:  
  
"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," Ron remarked.  
  
"Or both," Harry said.  
  
Not much of a conversation, but they were, of course, talking about what could possibly need such heavy protection. I knew they couldn't guess what it was and remained at ease.  
  
Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again. And like I said before, Hermione refused to talk to us. As I sat there, not eating again, I plotted ways of getting back at Malfoy. I knew Harry and Ron were looking for one as well.  
  
Well, it came in the mail about a week later. As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. I was just as interested as everyone else was, even though I knew what was in the package. I saw the look of amazement on Harry's face when the owls dropped the parcel right in front of him. It sent his food flying everywhere, which none of the owls around us, Pep being one of them, minded. They began nibbling away at it. Another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel. Luckily, Harry read the letter first.  
  
As soon as Ron read the note he moaned enviously, "A Nimbus Two Thousand! I've never even touched one."  
  
They then got up and quickly left the hall. "Where on earth are they going?" Hermione asked no one in particular.  
  
"To unwrap Harry's new broom," I replied softly, then rested my head on one arm while I stroked Pep with the other.  
  
"Broom?" Hermione inquired. Oops.  
  
I sat up and looked at her. I tried to think of a lie to cover up what I'd just said, but nothing was coming to mind. I sighed. "All right, fine, since I've already said too much. Harry's the new Gryffindor seeker in Quidditch." Hermione's jaw dropped.  
  
"But first years aren't allowed to play, are they?"  
  
"Dumbledore bent the rules a bit. Look, don't tell anyone, okay? No one's supposed to know."  
  
"Then how did you find out?"  
  
I hesitated, then, "Toast?" I picked up a piece of toast and offered it to her. She shook her head.  
  
"You know, come to think of it, you seem to know a lot about what's happening. Like when I tried to stop Harry and Ron from going out, you didn't want me to. You knew they were going to run into that three-headed dog, didn't you?"  
  
I just looked at her. What was I supposed to say?  
  
"How, though?" Then a horrible thought crossed her mind. "Dark magic." She gasped and scooted away from me. "Are you in league with You-Know- Who?"  
  
I raised my eyebrows in surprise and then . . .  
  
I laughed.  
  
I shook my head with a smile. "No, I am not in league with Voldemort." She gasped again.  
  
"You said his name!" She scooted farther away.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Hermione, fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself. You should know that, smart as you are." She looked at me skeptically for a while, but then scooted closer again.  
  
"I'm not smart." I laughed again.  
  
"Of course you are." We finished breakfast in silence.  
  
Okay, we didn't actually finish breakfast, instead we decided to go up to Gryffindor tower: Hermione to scold Harry and Ron, me to see the broomstick.  
  
We were still on the stairs when we saw the two boys, and Harry was just saying, "Well, it's true. If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team . . ."  
  
"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking the rules?" Hermione said angrily from behind them.  
  
Harry had been referring to Malfoy, who I was sure had just learned about Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand. I smiled.  
  
"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" Harry told Hermione.  
  
"Yes, don't stop now," Ron said, "it's doing us so much good."  
  
Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.  
  
"Don't you have somewhere to be as well?" Ron asked me. I smiled.  
  
"Always." Then I began to follow Hermione. Near the bottom of the stairs I turned around again and said, "I hope you like your broomstick, Harry." I then continued to follow after Hermione. I shouldn't have said it, but it was too tempting.  
  
Later, that night while we were all eating dinner, something embarrassing and unforgettable happened.  
  
From across the Great Hall.  
  
"Hey Courtney! Harry! I HAVE A SONG FOR YOU!" Oh God, no. It was Lisa. She was on top of the Slytherin table. The hall was growing silent to see what she was doing. "Laura! C'mon, you know this one!"  
  
Laura too stood on top of her house table.  
  
Lisa began, "This is for you Courtney and Harry, future Prom King and Queen!" There was a still silence as everyone, including the teachers, listened. For once I wished the teachers would intervene, but they didn't. Why didn't they?  
  
Because Dumbledore told them about us, I thought.  
  
"You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you!" She began to do a freaky tap thing across the table. Laura joined in. "You'd be like Heaven to touch. Oh, God, I want to hold you so much."  
  
"Oh, God, no, no, no," I moaned. Harry looked at me, then at the twins. I buried my face in my hands. I could feel my cheeks becoming red.  
  
"At long last Love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you."  
  
Snape walked in at that moment. I have never been gladder to see his ugly face.  
  
"OH SHIT! Laura! This is where we run! The Calvary! SOS! SNAPE!" She bounded off the table, Laura behind her as they bolted towards the girls' bathroom.  
  
I turned my head, and tried to ignore the fact that that had happened. But it burned in my mind while the students all roared with laughter.  
Back in the common room that night, everyone was sitting around doing homework and laughing about what had happened. I knew that they would never forget, but I didn't know if they would let me forget it. Seven o'clock drew near and Harry left Gryffindor tower. In fact, he left the castle. He was going down to the Quidditch field to meet Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and their Keeper. I stayed in Gryffindor tower with Hermione. She had decided to talk to me again, which, now that my headache was gone, I was thankful for. She helped me out with my homework and kept me company.  
  
There came a sudden tapping at the window. I looked over and saw Pep waiting to be let in, so I opened the window. She flew in and landed on my homework. She didn't have a note or anything with her, so I assumed she had just come to hang out for awhile, maybe get some food. When I sat down she nibbled my finger affectionately. "I don't have any food Pep," I told her. She gave a disappointed hoot, but instead of leaving she made her way up my arm and perched on my shoulder to observe my work. I smiled and went back to my homework.  
An hour later my brain was fried and I had another headache. I practically threw down my quill and stood up. Pep clung tightly to my robe to keep from falling. I stroked her a little to calm her down. She hooted wearily and fell back asleep. "I can't work anymore, Hermione," I announced. Hermione finished the sentence she was writing, dropped her quill, and looked at me as she said, "Me either." She stood up and we walked over to the fire together. The common room was crowded and many meaningless conversations were taking place. None of the comfortable chairs were available, so we remained standing. It had begun to get dark about half an hour before, and I knew Harry would be returning anytime now. Before he did, though, Hermione said she was going up to the dormitory, and I went with her.  
  
We packed up our books and the work we had done and carried everything up the stairs and dumped it all on our beds. By now Pep was on top of my head, annoyed by the movement of my arm. I smiled as I got her down and sat her on my bed. Hermione picked up a book and began reading, so I got off of my bed and opened my trunk.  
  
I had looked in it once or twice since the first night, but never completely. I glanced up at Hermione; she was engulfed in her book. I looked back down at my trunk and quietly began to take everything out of it. Spare robes, my hat, a cloak for winter . . . Same old stuff from before. But something told me to keep digging. I did.  
  
Shoes, stockings, my cards from the chocolate frogs on the train. There was nothing new in my trunk, yet I kept digging. I felt sure that once I got to the bottom I would find what I was looking for, even though I didn't know what I was looking for. I kept taking things out; I nearly threw them out. What was I doing? This was crazy.  
  
Suddenly, as I removed a scarf, two leaves fell from it. One was large, very large. The other looked like any other leaf you might find lying around. I picked them both up gently. I decided to take one at a time and laid the smaller one down. I then just sat and stared at the big one.  
FLASH!  
I threw the Lembas wafer to the ground.  
  
"I'm sick of Lembas!" I burst. "Day and night, night and day! It doesn't even work anymore! I'm starving!"  
  
"Courtney, calm down," Aragorn told me.  
  
"No!" I screamed. "I'm sick of Lembas, I'm sick of darkness, I'm sick of- of walking, and I'm sick of you! You're always walking around yelling at me, putting me down. You don't care! And I don't give a damn if you care about me, but you should care about those helpless hobbits, about Lisa and Laura!"  
  
"Courtney," Boromir began.  
  
"No," I said. "My friends are out there somewhere, wandering around. I don't know if they're alive, if they're hurt. They may need me and I can't help them. Haven't you ever cared about anyone so much that it hurt?" I asked. Everyone was silent.  
  
"Yes," Aragorn said softly. I fell to my knees beside him.  
  
"That's how I feel about Lisa and Laura. I need them, they need me. We need each other."  
  
"There's nothing else we can do, we're moving as fast as we can. You said it yourself, you're sick of walking. We all are. We are all tired and dead on our feet."  
  
I tried to fight back tears.  
  
"I'm not trying to be selfish here, and I am trying my best."  
  
"Maybe your best isn't enough."  
  
"Aragorn," Legolas said quietly.  
  
"God, I can't take this anymore! What do you want from me?"  
  
"Nothing you can achieve," Aragorn told me. "What do you want from me?"  
  
"Something you're afraid to do."  
  
"I do not fear anything, child." This was uncalled for.  
  
"You fear your responsibility, and you know it," I told him coldly. "You may have more years, more knowledge than me, but at least I face my responsibilities. My friends need me, and I'm going to help them regardless of whether you help me or not."  
FLASH!  
A tear fell. I dropped the leaf that had at one time held the Lembas I hated with such a passion and covered my face. Why had he been so cruel? I really had tried my hardest.  
  
I wiped my tears away and turned to the next leaf. I picked it up, afraid of what might happen.  
FLASH!  
We were all morphed Hork Bajir. Aldrea had decided to change trees and we were all jumping over. Lisa and Laura had both already jumped. I ran, but my fear overwhelmed me and I stopped. What happens if I fall? I asked shakily.  
  
You'd have a long time to think about why you fell, Lisa told me.  
  
Aldrea said, "Hork Bajir do not fall from trees."  
  
Okay, I responded. I backed up, ran, and leaped. I fell. I made a grab for the branch, but it had already pulled too much weight. It snapped. I fell, completely out of control. I kept reaching out for branches, but the blades covering my body kept slicing them away. I tried to demorph as I fell. Finally, I succeeded. I was human again! Just as this realization came over me, I looked down and saw . . .  
  
The ground.  
  
I hit it with unimaginable force, I suppose my neck broke, and the world went black.  
FLASH!  
With a gasp I opened my eyes and saw the leaf in my hand. I threw it back into my trunk. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and looked back in the trunk again. Now, there was something I hadn't seen before. It was a book. I picked it up and turned it over to see the title. My breath caught, and I dropped it. I looked back at it.  
  
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.  
  
What was that doing here?  
  
I picked it up and began to feverishly scan the pages. Page 170 was only half filled with words, and after that the pages were blank. What the . . .?  
  
"Courtney, what are you doing?" Hermione suddenly asked me, and then she began to walk over. I chucked the book into my trunk with the leaves, threw a few things on top of them, and turned to look at her.  
  
"Just looking for something," I told her.  
  
"Oh, what?" she asked, looking around at the mess. I glanced around me and grabbed my scarf.  
  
"My scarf," I replied cheerfully. I then wrapped it around my neck and smiled. "It's cold in here."  
  
"Oh, I suppose," she said, and then she turned and walked away. I rolled my eyes and, with a sigh, began packing everything back into my trunk. I would come back to the book later.  
I had been at Hogwarts for two months. It hardly felt like I had been there for two weeks. Okay, this is a lie. It felt like I had been there two years. Make the best out of a bad situation, right? Classes were becoming more interesting, but still, it wasn't home.  
  
On Halloween morning we all woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought we were ready to start making objects fly, something we had all been dying to try since he had made Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put our class into pairs to practice. Harry's partner was Seamus Finnigan, and Ron was partners with Hermione. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. While Hermione had warmed up to me again, she hadn't spoken to either of the boys since Harry's broomstick had arrived. I was partners with Neville. Something worried me about this.  
  
"Now, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."  
  
It was more difficult than I had thought it would be. Neville and I swished and flicked, but our feather that we were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Not to worry, no one else's was either. Across the room, Seamus Finnigan had gotten impatient with his and Harry's feather and prodded it with his wand and set fire to it --- Harry had to put it out with his hat.  
  
Ron, I saw, wasn't having much more luck.  
  
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.  
  
"You're saying it wrong," I heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing- gar- dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."  
  
"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.  
  
Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
Ron would eat his words.  
  
Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.  
  
"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone, see here, Miss Granger's done it!"  
  
Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of class.  
  
As we all filed out of the classroom, I walked with Hermione behind Harry and Ron. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," Ron was telling Harry, "she's a nightmare, honestly."  
  
Hermione, with tears in her eyes, walked quickly away from me and knocked into Harry in her hurry to get away.  
  
"I think she heard you."  
  
"So?" Ron said, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."  
  
"She does have friends," I told him angrily. He and Harry stopped and looked at me. "You have absolutely no respect for anyone, do you? She's a better person than you, Ron. A lot better. You have absolutely no right to talk about her that way, you don't even know her!" I then hurried off to our next class, which Hermione missed, and I didn't see the impact I'd had on anyone. Hermione, in fact, wasn't seen by anyone all afternoon. On our way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Harry, Ron, and I heard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom and wanted to be left alone. I didn't see the boys' reactions, but just then we entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations surely put Hermione out of their minds. I couldn't forget about her that easily.  
  
Everyone else sat down to eat, I simply piled a few things onto a plate and made to leave again. "Where are you going?" Ron asked.  
  
"What does it matter to you?" I inquired. All right, yes, it was mean. I sighed and said, "Hermione needs to eat, doesn't she?"  
  
"Didn't she say she wanted to be left alone?" Harry asked. Men.  
  
"Let me handle this, okay?" Then I left the Great Hall.  
  
I made my way along the corridors until I came to the girls' bathroom. I heard hurried footsteps and hid behind a nearby pillar. Quirrell hurried past me and I realized with a start why I had to get to Hermione, and quickly. I opened the bathroom door a crack, slipped inside, and let it shut. Too loud.  
  
"Who's there?" Hermione's voice came from the nearest stall.  
  
"It's me," I told her, walking over.  
  
"Go away," Hermione mumbled. I sat the plate of food on the floor in front of her stall and stooped down.  
  
"You haven't eaten all day, Hermione," I said.  
  
"I'm not hungry."  
  
"Hermione, tell me what's wrong."  
  
"You heard what Ron said." A pause. "He's right."  
  
"What? No! He was wrong, Hermione, do you actually think that?"  
  
"Well, prove him wrong."  
  
Why did she have to be so stubborn?  
  
"Look, I know what you're going through. I used to feel the same way. I mean . . ." Okay, I had no idea what the hell I was going to say after that, so I cut right to the chase. "Hermione, the only reason he said that is because you've only shown him your not-so-pleasant side. If he could just see what I see, if everyone could see what I see, they'd love you. You're shutting yourself out, hiding behind your books. You just need to loosen up a little."  
  
DOOM! DOOM!  
  
Was I back in Moria?  
  
Hermione was silent for a time, but then she said, "Name one person who cares whether I come out or not."  
  
"Well, me for one, your parents for another," I replied. "That makes at least three."  
  
There was silence from inside the stall, and then I heard a click and the stall door opened. There stood Hermione with a tear-stained face and trembling lip. Suddenly, she stepped forward and threw her arms around me. I returned the gesture, but the moment didn't last long.  
  
"Let's go to the feast," I offered. Hermione nodded and we turned to leave, but there was something blocking our way.  
  
A big, ugly, smelly something.  
  
I heard a faint click and knew that Harry and Ron had just locked the troll in the bathroom with us. Humph. Like I said before, men.  
  
The troll saw us, raised his club, and brought it down. I pushed Hermione aside while leaping for dear life myself and, with two high-pitched screams, we landed on opposite sides of the bathroom. Not knowing who to go after first the troll just kind of swung his club around hoping to hit one of us. He knocked a sink off of the wall over where I was and a stall down over where Hermione was.  
  
Hermione was, naturally, the smarter one here. She kept backing farther and farther toward the back of the bathroom where the troll wouldn't be able to see her. I just sat there like an idiot. Lisa was right, I was dumb.  
  
Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and there stood Harry and Ron. They were a bit shocked, to say the least, to see me there. They then spotted Hermione, shrinking against the back wall. The troll had decided to advance on her, and it kept knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.  
  
"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.  
  
The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.  
  
"Oy, pea-brain!" Ron yelled from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.  
  
"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open wide with terror.  
  
The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was the nearest and had no way to escape. Now, I don't know why I did it, Harry was about to save Ron anyway, but I did what I did and it's all in the past now.  
  
I gave a yell, pulled out my wand, and muttered a spell I had never heard before. Thick gold rope sprang from the end of my wand, wound around the entire troll's body, and fastened itself.  
  
The troll, however, was relentless. It began to shuffle toward me. Great. Harry, however, didn't miss a beat. He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. This nearly knocked the troll off balance. The troll, of course, couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped --- it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils. Now there's something you don't see everyday.  
  
Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.  
  
Hermione, by this point, had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand and bellowed, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The troll's club raised a little, but not enough to come out of the troll's hand. It wasn't enough, why wasn't it enough?  
  
"Ron!" I yelled. "Together!"  
  
He nodded and we both yelled, "Wingardium Leviosa!"  
  
The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over --- and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and, considering it was already off balance, fell instantaneously.  
  
The smile was swept from my face when I realized where the troll was falling.  
  
I tried to move, but I wasn't fast enough.  
  
With amazing weight and force, the troll pinned me to the ground. I heard and felt at least one of my legs crack, let out a cry of pain, and then fought for consciousness.  
  
Everyone around me was getting to their feet. Ron's wand was still raised, and he was looking with amazement at the work he had done. Nevermind me.  
  
It was Hermione who spoke first.  
  
"Is it --- dead?"  
  
"I don't think so," Harry replied, "I think it's just been knocked out."  
  
"Help," I breathed with difficulty. Harry and Ron rushed over to get me out.  
  
"Hermione, get my wand," Harry said. Then he and Ron, with astounding difficulty, lifted the troll's massive body enough for me to slide out with my arms. Once I was out of the way, the two boys let the troll fall again to the ground.  
  
I reached for my leg as Hermione handed Harry his wand. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue. "Urgh --- troll boogers." He wiped the wand on the troll's trousers.  
  
The troll gave a snort, we all yelped and jumped away, well, except me, and Ron's wand was back in the air.  
  
"Are you all right?" Harry asked me.  
  
"I believe my leg is broken," I replied. "If not both of them." Harry then helped me stand up, and I tested my left leg. Thank God, it was just in pain. "Thanks," I said.  
  
A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made us all look up. We hadn't exactly realized what a racket we had been making, but naturally, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the bathroom, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.  
  
Snape bent over the troll. He was fingering the rope when he looked up at me. I quickly looked away. Professor McGonagall was looking at Harry, Ron, and me. I don't think anyone had ever seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Actually, if not for the situation, it would have been quite comical.  
  
"What on earth were you thinking of?" Professor McGonagall asked with cold fury in her voice. Harry looked over at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air, and Ron looked over at me. I looked down at the floor. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?" I saw Snape give Harry a swift, piercing look, which caused Harry to join my staring-at-the-floor party, and then it was my turn. Remember those dark tunnels I was telling you about? I looked into them and, let me tell you, there is no light at the end of those tunnels. I wished Ron would put his wand down now.  
  
Then a small voice came out of the shadows.  
  
"Please, Professor McGonagall --- they were looking for me."  
  
"Miss Granger!"  
  
Hermione, who had hidden in the shadows again, had decided to come out, whether because danger had passed or to save our butts, I don't know, but she came out all the same.  
  
"I went looking for the troll because I --- I thought I could deal with it on my own --- you know, because I've read all about them."  
  
Ron dropped his wand.  
  
"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Courtney tied it up with rope, Harry stuck his wand up its nose, and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."  
  
The rest of us tried to look as though this story wasn't new to us.  
  
"Well --- in that case . . ." Professor McGonagall said, staring at us all, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"  
  
Hermione hung her head. Harry and Ron were speechless, I was in pain.  
  
"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," Professor McGonagall announced. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."  
  
Hermione left.  
  
Professor McGonagall then turned on Harry, Ron, and me.  
  
"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."  
  
"Professor, I think I should see Madam Pomfrey," I told Professor McGonagall. That's when her attention was drawn to my broken leg, which was at a very odd angle.  
  
"Yes, of course," Professor McGonagall said. "Potter, can you escort her or shall I?"  
  
"I will, Professor," Harry replied quietly. Then we all left. None of us spoke much until we came to the hospital wing. Ron opened the door, Harry helped me in, and Madam Pomfrey came bustling over.  
  
"It's me again!" I grinned. Madam Pomfrey gave me a disapproving look and commenced fixing my leg. It only took a minute or so and, when Madam Pomfrey suggested I stay in the hospital wing that night, I refused.  
  
"All right, but I want you to come by and see me tomorrow morning."  
  
"Will do, thanks," I said, and then I limped up to Gryffindor tower with Harry and Ron. On our way back to the tower is when the talking began.  
  
"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.  
  
"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's."  
  
"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."  
  
"She might not have needed saving if we hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded him.  
  
"Oh, that's what that noise was," I said. The boys both blushed, but, to their shock, I began to laugh.  
  
"How did you conjure up the rope?" Harry asked. I stopped smiling and thought.  
  
"To tell the truth, I have no idea," I replied. We had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
"Pig snout," we all said together and entered.  
  
The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for us. There was an embarrassed pause. Then, none of us looking at each other, we all said, "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.  
  
I grinned as I ate. Hermione came over to join me, and then Harry and Ron walked over. It was finally comfortable for us to be together. Hallelujah! I couldn't wait to tell Laura I had followed orders!  
  
And then I became uncomfortable. Orders? I had followed orders?  
  
"Courtney, how's your leg?" Hermione asked me, bringing me out of my world of unnerving thoughts.  
  
"It's fine, thanks for asking," I said. Then I smiled and went back to my food.  
  
From that day on, from the moment we'd said "Thanks," we were all friends. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them. 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six  
  
The day after our defeat of the mountain troll I sent Laura an owl telling her about the event. I didn't get an owl in return, but I didn't care. I knew when I did get messages from her they usually meant trouble was coming. That's why I was perfectly content without mail.  
  
As November progressed, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.  
  
I still hadn't received any mail, but no news, in this case, is good news!  
  
The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor team would be playing their first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship.  
  
Hardly anyone had seen Harry play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Harry should be kept, well, secret. But the news that he was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow (whistle, whistle), and Harry didn't seem sure to know which was worse --- people telling him he'd be brilliant or people telling him they'd be running around underneath him holding a mattress. I knew this because he announced it to Ron, Hermione, and me one night at dinner. We tried to console him, but I don't think it worked too well.  
  
In my view, it was really lucky that Harry now had Hermione as a friend. He never would have gotten through all of the homework we'd been getting with all the last-minute Quidditch practice that Wood was making him and the rest of the team do. Hermione had also lent him Quidditch Through the Ages so that he could read up on the rules and such. While the rest of us sat around and talked or worked on homework, Harry was either out on the Quidditch field practicing or pouring over Quidditch Through the Ages.  
  
Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since the incident with the troll, and she was much nicer for it. That made things a bit more comfortable between everyone. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match we were all out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured us up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. We were all standing with our backs to the fire trying to get warm when Snape crossed the yard. I noticed that he was limping but put it in the back of my mind as I tried to concoct an excuse for why we were out there.  
  
We all moved closer together to block the fire from Snape's view: we knew it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something in our guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell us off anyway.  
  
"What's that you've got there, Potter?"  
  
It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed it to him.  
  
"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," Snape told him. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."  
  
"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"  
  
"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," Ron said bitterly.  
  
I bit back the urge to shout out the answer to their question. This was going to get hard really, really soon.  
  
The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. We were all sitting together next to a window. Hermione was checking our Charms homework for us. She would never let us copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read through it we got the right answers anyway.  
  
I could tell that Harry was restless. He kept getting up out of his chair, walking around a little, sitting back down, and then tapping his fingers on the table. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Harry, what is wrong with you?" He looked up at me.  
  
"I'm going to go ask Snape if I can have my book back," he said.  
  
"Better you than me," Hermione and Ron said together. I laughed, and Harry left.  
  
I don't know how long Harry was gone, but when he came back, he didn't have a book. "Did you get it?" Ron asked as Harry came over to our table, apparently not noticing Harry's empty hands. "What's the matter?" Harry was breathing rather hard and looked a little frightened.  
  
Here's what had happened:  
  
Harry had gone to the staffroom and knocked. When no one had answered after another knock, he thought maybe Snape had left the book in there and looked in. According to him, Snape and Filch had been inside, alone. Snape had been holding his robes above his knees over a bloody and mangled leg. Filch had been handing Snape bandages.  
  
"Blasted thing," Snape had been saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"  
  
Harry had tried to shut the door quietly, but Snape had caught him.  
  
"POTTER!"  
  
Snape had dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg.  
  
"I just wondered if I could have my book back," Harry had told him.  
  
"GET OUT! OUT!" Snape had yelled at him.  
  
Harry had left, before Snape could take anymore points from Gryffindor, and sprinted back upstairs.  
  
"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him --- he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion."  
  
Not such a good bet, Harry, I thought.  
  
Hermione's eyes were wide.  
  
"No --- he wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try to steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."  
  
"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"  
  
Again I bit back the urge to shout out the answer.  
  
We all went off to bed then. I don't know how well any of us slept. I for one hardly slept at all. Twice I nearly got out of bed to dedicate as many spells as I could to memory. I forced myself to stay in bed.  
  
The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.  
  
"You've got to eat some breakfast," Ron told Harry.  
  
"I don't want anything."  
  
"Just a bit of toast," wheedled Hermione.  
  
"I'm not hungry."  
  
"At least drink something," I said, cutting a piece of sausage. They all looked at me. "What? At least it'll wake him up."  
  
"He needs to eat something," Hermione told me.  
  
"For once, I agree with Hermione," Ron said.  
  
"I'm sitting right here," Harry remarked.  
  
"Sorry," we all said together.  
  
"Harry, you need your strength," Seamus Finnigan told Harry. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."  
  
"Thanks, Seamus," Harry muttered. Then, to please everyone, Harry took a gulp from his goblet and a bite of his toast. I smiled to myself and continued with my small breakfast.  
  
By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might have been raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.  
  
Ron, Hermione, and I joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean Thomas up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, we had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.  
  
The Gryffindor team walked out onto the field to loud cheers. The Slytherin team was already there.  
  
Madam Hooch was refereeing. She was standing in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.  
  
"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said. "Mount your brooms, please."  
  
Everyone got onto their brooms.  
  
Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.  
  
Fifteen brooms rose up high into the air, Madam Hooch being one of them, and they were off.  
  
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor --- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too ---"  
  
"JORDAN!"  
  
"Sorry, Professor."  
  
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.  
  
"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve --- back to Johnson and --- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes --- Flint flying like an eagle up there --- he's going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle --- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and --- OUCH --- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger --- Quaffle taken by Slytherins --- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger --- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which --- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes --- she's really flying --- dodges a speeding Bludger --- the goal posts are ahead --- come on, now, Angelina --- Keeper Bletchley dives --- misses --- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"  
  
Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, mine being one of them, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.  
  
"Budge up there, move along."  
  
"Hagrid!"  
  
Ron, Hermione, and I all squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join us.  
  
"Bin watchin' from me hut," Hagrid told us, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"  
  
"Nope," Ron replied. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."  
  
"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," Hagrid said, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry.  
  
We had seen Harry do a couple loop-the-loops when Angelina had scored, but he was now back to sitting quite still in the air. Once, a Bludger had gone pelting his way, but Harry had dodged it and Fred Weasley had gone chasing after it.  
  
"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the --- wait a moment --- was that the Snitch?"  
  
A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.  
  
Harry dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch --- all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.  
  
Harry was faster than Higgs and put on an extra spurt of speed ---  
  
WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from us Gryffindors below --- Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life. I stood up in my rage, trying not to curse too badly. A few people joined me, Hermione and Ron being two of them.  
  
"Foul!" all the Gryffindors screamed.  
  
Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.  
  
I was watching the scene below with anticipation, but behind me Dean Thomas was yelling, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"  
  
"What are you talking about Dean?" Ron asked.  
  
"Red card!" Dean said furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"  
  
"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.  
  
Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.  
  
"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."  
  
Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.  
  
"So --- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating ---"  
  
"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.  
  
"I mean, after that open and revolting foul ---"  
  
"Jordan, I'm warning you ---"  
  
"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it way, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."  
  
I sat back down in my seat, but not comfortably.  
  
It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. I gasped and stood up again.  
  
"Courtney, what's wrong?" Ron asked. I couldn't answer; I had to be sure.  
  
It happened again. Then, Harry's broom began zigzagging through the air, and every now and then made violent swishing movements.  
  
Lee was still commenting.  
  
"Slytherin in possession --- Flint with the Quaffle --- passes Spinnet --- passes Bell --- hit hard in the face by the Bludger, hope it broke his nose -- only joking, Professor --- Slytherins score --- oh no . . ."  
  
The Slytherins were cheering. No one else seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.  
  
"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom . . . but he can't have . . .."  
  
"He has," I told everyone, not taking my eyes off of Harry. No one said anything, but I knew their thoughts. I was going to have some serious explaining to do after the match.  
  
Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.  
  
"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.  
  
"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic --- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."  
  
At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ron moaned, gray-faced.  
  
"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape --- look."  
  
Ron grabbed the binoculars. Then he handed them to me. I looked across the field and saw Snape in the middle of the stands opposite us. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.  
  
"He's doing something --- jinxing the broom," I heard Hermione say, but I was no longer looking at Snape. I was looking at the man a few rows behind him: Quirrell. He was also in a sort of trance and muttering. Anger surged in me. I took the binoculars away from my eyes.  
  
"What should we do?" Ron asked.  
  
"Leave it to me."  
  
Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. I focused the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good --- every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.  
  
"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered from beside me.  
  
I focused my gaze back on Snape. I could see Quirrell fall over behind him and relaxed a little. Then, I saw a little light over where Snape was sitting. It took about thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. I saw the horror on his face as he did realize it. Then the light was gone.  
  
I began to laugh, but never took the binoculars away from my eyes. I looked back up at Harry. He was able to clamber onto his broom.  
  
"Neville, you can look!" Ron said with glee. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.  
  
Harry was speeding toward the ground when we all saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick --- he hit the field on all fours - coughed --- and something gold fell into his hand.  
  
"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion. I threw the binoculars at Hagrid and ran down toward the field.  
  
"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference --- Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results --- Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.  
  
We didn't hear any of this. We had all gone back to Hagrid's hut, and Hagrid was making Harry a cup of strong tea.  
  
"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "We all saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."  
  
"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"  
  
We all looked at each other, wondering what to tell him. Harry, I suppose, decided to tell him the truth.  
  
"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."  
  
Hagrid dropped the teapot.  
  
"How do you know about Fluffy?"  
  
"Fluffy?"  
  
"Yeah --- he's mine --- bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year --- I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the ---"  
  
"Yes?" Harry asked eagerly.  
  
"Now, don't ask me anymore," Hagrid said gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."  
  
"But Snape's trying to steal it."  
  
"Rubbish," Hagrid said again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothing of the sort."  
  
"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" Hermione cried.  
  
The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.  
  
"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"  
  
I chose not to comment on this. I'd seen him, too, but I'd also seen Quirrell.  
  
"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid said hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh --- yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel --"  
  
"Aha!" Harry said, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"  
  
Hagrid looked furious with himself.  
  
On our trip back up to Gryffindor tower, Hermione began drilling me. "Courtney, how did you know?" she asked me suddenly.  
  
"How did I know what?"  
  
"That Harry had lost control of his broom?"  
  
"Oh, well, it was obvious, wasn't it?"  
  
"But you said it after Hagrid had told us that it wasn't possible. No one else thought he had."  
  
"I'm just smart like that," I said with a forced and very fake grin.  
  
"Whoa, what's all this about?" Harry asked.  
  
"Well, Courtney was the first person to notice your broom had gone out of control," Hermione explained. "She somehow knew you didn't have control anymore."  
  
"How?" Harry and Ron asked. Luckily we were at the Portrait of the Fat Lady. I said the password and the portrait swung aside.  
  
"Good work in the match today, Harry," I said, and then hurried off to the girls' dormitories.  
  
The conversation was dropped, but I should have known better than to trust that it would never come up again. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
  
Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.  
  
No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where our breath rose in a mist before us and we kept as close as possible to our hot cauldrons. Potions classes were the only time I saw Lisa, and from what she could tell me, we would be seeing a lot more of each other, and Laura, before winter break was over.  
  
"I do feel so sorry," Draco Malfoy said one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."  
  
He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Lisa hit him upside his head and told him that she was staying for the holidays and to shut-up. He didn't bring the subject up again.  
  
Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.  
  
It was true that Harry was staying at Hogwarts and not going back to Privet Drive, where he lived with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Cousin Dudley. I was staying, too, because, frankly, I had nowhere else to go! Lisa and Laura were staying, as well as Ron and his brothers, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie, their second- oldest son, who worked with dragons.  
  
When we left the dungeons at the end of Potions, we found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out from the bottom and a loud puffing sound told us that Hagrid was behind it.  
  
"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.  
  
"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."  
  
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind us. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose --- that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."  
  
Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.  
  
"WEASLEY!"  
  
Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.  
  
"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid reported, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."  
  
"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," replied Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."  
  
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking. Lisa followed not far behind, but she slipped me a note in the process. I hid it in one of my books and watched her walk away.  
  
"I'll get him," Ron said, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him ---"  
  
"I hate them both," Harry remarked, "Malfoy and Snape."  
  
"That Lisa girl's not much better."  
  
"Yeah," Harry agreed, "but I guess we can't talk. Courtney's gotten the worst end of her temper."  
  
"Yeah, why don't you ever say anything bad about her?" Ron asked.  
  
"So, Hagrid," I said, in an attempt to change the subject away from myself.  
  
"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," Hagrid told the guys, saving me. I would have to send him an owl when the weather got a little better. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."  
  
So we all followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.  
  
"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree --- put it in the far corner, would you?"  
  
The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.  
  
"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.  
  
"Just one," Hermione replied. "And that reminds me --- Harry, Ron, Courtney, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."  
  
"Oh yeah, you're right," Ron agreed. I nodded as well, tearing my eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.  
  
"The library?" Hagrid asked, following us out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"  
  
"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."  
  
"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here --- I've told yeh --- drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."  
  
"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," Hermione lied.  
  
"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us a lot of trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere --- just give us a hint --- I know I've read his name somewhere."  
  
"I'm sayin' nothin'," Hagrid said flatly.  
  
"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," Ron remarked, and we left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.  
  
We had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were looking because they wanted to find out what Snape was supposedly trying to steal. I was looking so that I didn't become a suspicious character in their eyes. I needed their friendship if I planned to get through the year. The trouble for them was that they didn't know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Noble Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows. My problem was that I did know where to begin, as a matter-of- fact, I knew exactly what book he was in, and I couldn't tell them!  
  
Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over to the Restricted Section. I knew his thoughts. He was wondering if Flamel might be somewhere in there. Unfortunately, you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in any of the restricted books, and he would never get one. They were books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was sitting at a near-by table thinking about the lonely, presentless Christmas that I was going to have instead of looking for Nicolas Flamel. I suddenly remembered Lisa's note and pulled it out of my book and read it. It was nothing important, stating only that it was nearly Christmas, that she had a special gift for me, and that we'd be having at least one meeting with Laura before the Christmas break was over. I folded the note back up and hid it in my robe.  
  
"What are you looking for, boy?" came a near-by voice.  
  
"Nothing," Harry said. I rolled my eyes.  
  
Madam Pince the librarian brandished a feather duster at him.  
  
"You'd better get out, then. Go on --- out!"  
  
Harry left the library. I got up to follow him. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all agreed that they had better not ask Madam Pince where they could find Flamel. They were sure she'd be able to tell them, but they couldn't risk Snape hearing what they were up to. I don't include myself in this decision because I had just sat there and nodded while they discussed it.  
  
I followed Harry into the corridor and made myself comfortable against a wall. "Aren't you going to look for Flamel?" Harry asked me.  
  
"Is there a point?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I guess not."  
  
A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione joined us, shaking their heads. We went off to lunch.  
  
"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" Hermione asked. "And send me an owl if you find anything."  
  
"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," Ron said. "It'd be safe to ask them."  
  
"Very safe, as they're both dentists," Hermione told him.  
  
Once the holidays had started, I, along with Ron and Harry, was having too good a time to think much about Flamel, or anything for that matter. I had the dormitory totally to myself and the common room was far emptier than usual, so we were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. I sat with Harry and Ron by the hour eating anything we could spear on a toasting fork --- bread, English muffins, marshmallows --- and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.  
  
Ron also started teaching Harry wizard chess. I would sit in an armchair reading and watching. It was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family --- in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.  
  
Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."  
  
On Christmas Eve, I went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When I woke early in the morning, however, the first thing I saw was a very small pile of packages at the foot of my bed. I crawled over to them and began to look through them.  
  
On top was a rather heavy and lumpy package wrapped in thick brown paper. Scrawled across it was To Courtney, from Hagrid. Inside I found treacle fudge, and decided to save it for a later time (or never, whichever came first). I picked up the next parcel, which was rather small. When I opened it, I recognized the handwriting on it as Lisa's and looked at the gift. It was a package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, but every flavor except booger, vomit, and spaghetti flavored had been picked out. "Oh, ha, ha Lisa," I said sarcastically to no one. I had sent her a bracelet I'd found at the bottom of my trunk, and look what I got in return. I rolled my eyes and set the beans with the treacle fudge. There was a sudden tapping on my window and I looked up to see Pep. I smiled and hurried over to let her in. She didn't have a note with her, but I guess she didn't want me to be alone on Christmas morning. I was happy to have a companion and shut the window as Pep flew over to rest on my bed. She hooted cheerfully as I joined her and I stroked her a bit.  
  
Soon, I was back to opening my gifts. The next one was from Laura. It was one Chocolate Frog. I laughed and set it aside. I had sent her a necklace that I had found at the bottom of my trunk. Hmm, there was a lot of stuff at the bottom of my trunk.  
  
The next parcel was soft and lumpy. I opened it and was very surprised to find a sweater. I held it up. It was murrey colored and it had a yellow flower on it. I smiled and pulled it over my head. It was nice and warm.  
  
The next three parcels contained more candy from Harry, Ron, and Hermione. I felt rather bad. All I had been able to send them was a poem each. My trunk had stopped producing gifts!  
  
There was one more parcel left. It was long and I couldn't for the life of me think of what it might be. I ripped the paper off of it, and then I opened the box. I saw something glinting in the early morning sun streaming through my window. I grabbed it and pulled. Out of the box came . . .  
  
My sword!  
  
My breath caught and I dropped the box. I stood up with the blade in my grasp. It felt so good to be holding it again. For once, I didn't have any memories or flashbacks. I waved the sword around a bit trying to get the old feel of it back. It came quickly. Now grinning, I put the sword back in the box. I didn't want to share it with anyone.  
  
Then, I got Pep up onto my shoulder, where she then progressed to my head, and walked over to the boys' dormitories. I knocked a couple times and stepped back. Harry opened the door. "Merry Christmas!" I said cheerfully.  
  
"Merry Christmas!" Harry replied. "Come on in." He opened the door wider and I walked in.  
  
"You got a Weasley sweater, too?" Ron moaned. I laughed. "All I did was tell her that you two didn't expect any gifts and she went and made both of you sweaters!"  
  
"It's really very nice of her," I told him, sitting down on a near-by bed. I saw Harry glance at his bed. I knew he was thinking about the invisibility cloak he had just received. Just then, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. "Merry Christmas!"  
  
"Hey, look --- Harry and Courtney have got Weasley sweaters, too!"  
Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.  
  
"Theirs are better than ours, though," Fred remarked, holding up Harry's sweater and looking at mine. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."  
  
"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."  
  
"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.  
  
"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid --- we know we're called Gred and Forge."  
  
I stifled a laugh as someone else came into the dormitory.  
  
"What's all this noise?"  
  
Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.  
  
"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry and Courtney have got one."  
  
"I --- don't --- want ---" Percy objected thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.  
  
"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," George told him. "Christmas is a time for family."  
  
They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.  
  
I have never in all my life had such a Christmas dinner as I did that day. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce --- and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. The fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. I watched Harry pull a wizard cracker with Fred and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed everyone in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a rear admiral's hat and several live, white mice. I took the hat, which no one else wanted, and looked up at the High Table. Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.  
  
Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. I watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to my amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.  
  
When I finally left the table, I was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including three hats (the one Harry had given me, an oversized cowboy hat, and a sombrero), a pack of non-explodable balloons, and a pair of tap shoes that tapped on any surface (now that's what I'm talking about)! The white mice had disappeared and I had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris' Christmas dinner.  
  
The Weasleys, Harry, and I spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, we returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. I don't think he would have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help him so much.  
  
After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, we all felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.  
  
Despite the fact that my family was universes away, and my friends were in some other part of the castle pretending to hate me, it was probably the best Christmas day ever. I climbed into bed without a worry and closed my eyes.  
  
I never even touched the brink of sleep before I heard a tapping at my window, and it wasn't a dainty tap like Pep usually made. It was a big tap.  
  
I opened my eyes and looked over at the window. There was Laura's barred owl, Fyodor, with a note. I groaned and went over to the window to let him in. I took the note from him and, without an answer, he left. I opened the note and read it.  
  
Court, Meet Lisa and me in the library, 12:00. See ya there! ~Laura  
  
The library again? And she was supposed to be the leader? Yeah, right. I sighed, threw the letter away, and plopped down on my bed again. Why me?  
  
I decided that sleeping was not an option, so I got out my sword and began refreshing my brain. I couldn't believe how out of shape I was. My thrust had no power behind it! My lunge was so pathetic I wanted to cry. I kept practicing right up until ten till midnight. Then, reluctantly, I put my sword away and left Gryffindor tower.  
  
I crept down the icy stone steps into the common room, which was dark and cold. The fire had died down and the chairs all cast eerie shadows in the little bit of moonlight that was still coming through the windows. I tiptoed hurriedly to the portrait hole and climbed through it. "Who's there now?" squawked the Fat Lady. Now? I thought. I shrugged it off and just continued down the corridor without saying a word. The Fat Lady couldn't see me, it was too dark. I made my way silently, almost like a shadow, down to the library.  
  
The library was pitch-black, unlike when I had been there before at 8:30. At least then there had been moonlight streaming in. I highly doubted we would be caught tonight. There was whispering coming from somewhere in the back of the chamber, so I flitted over towards it. There stood Lisa and Laura, Lisa wearing skintight clothing for morphing, Laura in a yellow bathrobe. "Why the library?" I asked when I got near enough.  
  
"Would you have preferred the bathroom?"  
  
"Yes, actually," I said. "And why midnight?"  
  
"Because I'm the leader and I said so!"  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Okay, Laura's third council has just been called to order. First order of business, how is everything working out?"  
  
"Well, I'm still English, and I'm still in Slytherin!" Lisa replied.  
  
"That's good enough for me," Laura laughed.  
  
"I did manage to make friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione," I told the twins. "I think they're beginning to suspect something, though. They keep asking me all these questions, and, do you know what I found at the bottom of my trunk?" I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. I had looked through the book over and over again, and every time I did there was more writing, but never the ending.  
  
"What?" Lisa and Laura asked in unison.  
  
"The book."  
  
"What book?" Lisa asked.  
  
"This book."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone!" I said rather loudly.  
  
"Shh!" Laura shushed me while Lisa sighed in realization. I nodded.  
  
"What's that doing in your trunk?" Lisa then asked.  
  
"Search me!" I replied.  
  
We never got to the second order of business because, just then, we noticed a lantern floating along in midair in the Restricted Section of the library.  
  
"What the?" And then we all remembered what night it was. "Oh, shit!"  
  
"See ya Court!" Laura said, and then pressed a button on her watch and was gone.  
  
"Wouldn't wanna be ya!" Lisa added, and then she shrank into the shadows, morphing some kind of bug I supposed. I stood there helplessly, again.  
  
A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence, and I knew Harry had just opened one of the restricted books. The shrieking went on and on, one high, unbroken, earsplitting note. The light we had all seen suddenly went out with a crash. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside. Filch! I ran, staying close to the wall in the darkest shadows. Hard and painfully I ran into . . .  
  
Hard air.  
  
"Harry, let me under the cloak!" I hissed. I saw an arm reach out, and I was pulled underneath the invisibility cloak. We passed Filch in the doorway; Filch's pale, wild eyes looked straight through us, and we slipped under his outstretched arm and streaked off up the corridor.  
  
We came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. We had no idea where the hell we were. In our hurry to get away from the library, we hadn't paid attention to where we were going. Perhaps because it was dark, we didn't recognize where we were at all. There was a suit of armor near the kitchens, we knew that, but we must have been at least five floors above there.  
  
"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library --- Restricted Section."  
  
The blood drained from my face. Wherever we were, Filch must have known a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to my horror, and I'm sure to Harry's as well, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."  
  
The two of us stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see us, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into us --- the cloak didn't stop us from being solid.  
  
Harry pulled on my arm, and we backed away as quietly as we could. A door stood ajar to our left. It was our only hope. Harry squeezed through first, and I followed close behind him, holding our breath, trying not to move the door, and to our relief we managed to get inside the room without Filch and Snape noticing anything. They walked straight past, and we leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away. That had been close, very close. But hey! I hadn't been caught!  
  
I stepped out from underneath the cloak and looked around the room. My eyes fell on the spot where Harry stood, invisible still. "Thanks," I told him quietly.  
  
"No problem," he replied with question in his voice.  
  
I looked around the room, taking it into consideration. It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket --- but propped against the wall facing me was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.  
  
It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on whosi.  
  
I remained standing where I was, but Harry moved nearer to the mirror. I only knew this because of the shuffling sound his feet made on the floor. He still had the invisibility cloak on. When nothing happened for about fifteen minutes, I took a step forward. "Harry, are you all right?"  
  
"Come here!" Harry suddenly said, throwing the invisibility cloak off of himself. I walked over to him. "It's my parents, look!" I looked in the mirror, but I didn't see his parents.  
  
I saw me.  
  
No, there was something . . . something was wrong. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. I saw my flannel pajamas, my bare feet, my long, frizzy, brown hair, nothing was different. But then I saw my eyes. There was the difference. My eyes were happy, perfectly content with the world. This girl hadn't gone to alternate universes. She hadn't died twice, fought in raging, bloody battles. She was normal, more normal than I had ever been. She had a good life, a better life than I would ever have again. She was happy, she was free, she was . . .  
  
Not me.  
  
This girl wasn't me, she couldn't be. I realized that this was the girl that I wanted to be. I didn't want to have any sort of power, any sort of special responsibility.  
  
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit someone, make them feel even a fraction of the pain I had felt. But I hid my emotions. I fought back the tears, bit back the scream, held down the punch.  
  
"Do you see them?" Harry asked, hurtling me back into the heartwrenching reality I was now in.  
  
"Yeah, Harry," I replied, "I see them." What else was I supposed to say? "No, I don't see your parents. But, hey, don't forget to bring Ron to see this mirror!" Dumbledore told me not to alter anything, and if that meant lying, then so be it.  
  
Harry was in ecstasy. He began to point people out to me, people I couldn't see. His mom, his dad, his grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. I felt horrible. I didn't know who he was talking about, all I could see was myself. My happy, content, never-to-be self.  
  
"Harry, maybe we should go," I told him. "We don't want to get caught."  
  
"You're right."  
  
I walked over to the door, but behind me heard Harry whisper, "I'll come back." Then he joined me; we threw the invisibility cloak over us, and made our way back to Gryffindor tower. Luckily, the excitement of the mirror had kept Harry from asking me any questions.  
  
Once again I say, why me?  
  
"You could have woken me up," Ron said crossly.  
  
"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."  
  
"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron told Harry eagerly.  
  
"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."  
  
"You can see them any old time," Ron replied. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating?"  
  
When Harry didn't reply, Ron turned to me. "And you look sick. Are you feeling all right?"  
  
No, I wasn't all right. I felt horrible. I had lied to Harry; I had lied to everyone. I had been thinking all night about telling them the truth. Unfortunately, if I told them the truth, I would not only lose my friends, but I would lose Dumbledore's trust.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
"Then you should eat something as well," Ron told me. I smiled, picked up a piece of bacon, and reluctantly began eating it. "Are you all right?" he then asked Harry. "You look odd."  
  
Again, no reply.  
  
That night, there were three of us under the cloak. This slowed us down. We tried retracing Harry's and my route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.  
  
"I'm freezing," Ron said. "Let's forget it and go back."  
  
"No!" Harry hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."  
  
We passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.  
  
"It's here --- just here --- yes!"  
  
We pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. Ron followed. I stayed by the door.  
  
"See?" I heard Harry whisper.  
  
"I can't see anything," Ron replied.  
  
"Look! Look at them all . . . there are loads of them . . ."  
  
"I can only see you."  
  
"Look in properly, go on, stand where I am."  
  
Harry stepped aside, and Ron stood in front of the mirror.  
  
Ron stared transfixed at his image.  
  
"Look at me!" he said.  
  
"Can you see all your family standing around you?"  
  
"No --- I'm alone --- but I'm different --- I look older --- and I'm head boy!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I am --- I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to --- and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup --- I'm Quidditch captain, too!"  
  
Ron looked at Harry.  
  
"Do you think this mirror shows the future?"  
  
"How can it? All my family are dead --- let me have another look ---"  
  
"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."  
  
"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."  
  
"Don't push me ---"  
  
A sudden noise out in the corridor put an end to their discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking.  
  
"Quick!"  
  
I ran over, and Ron threw the cloak back over us as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. We stood quite still all of us thinking the same thing --- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed like ages, she turned and left.  
  
"This isn't safe --- she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."  
  
And between Ron and me, we got Harry out of the room.  
  
By the time we got back to Gryffindor tower, I was on the verge of tears. Harry would know that I had lied to him, and I couldn't tell him the truth about me. I needed someone; I needed Lisa, or Laura. I just needed someone who could give me a little hope, something that I had run out of a long time ago.  
  
I went to bed miserable.  
  
The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.  
  
"Want to play chess, Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"  
  
"No . . . you go . . ."  
  
"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it --- and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"  
  
"You sound like Hermione."  
  
"I'm serious, Harry, don't go."  
  
Harry was going to go anyway.  
  
I had sat by the window all day just staring outside at the snow. My life had taken a drastic turn, and I feared it was for the worse. Harry still had not asked me anything, even though I could tell in the way he talked to me that there was something nagging at the back of his brain. Every time he looked at me, I got uncomfortable. It was one of those betrayal looks. I hate those.  
  
That night, I waited in the common room for Harry. When he came down the stairs, I stopped him. "Don't go, Harry, please don't."  
  
"You lied to me," was his response.  
  
"I had to," I told him desperately. With an angry scowl, he threw the invisibility cloak over himself. "At least let me come with you."  
  
Silence.  
  
"If you get us caught . . ." Then the cloak was raised and I stepped underneath of it.  
  
We found our way more quickly that night than before. We were walking so fast that we knew we were making more noise than was wise, but we didn't meet anyone.  
  
When we got to the room, Harry dropped the cloak and ran to the mirror. I sat down against the wall and watched him. Harry sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror.  
  
"So --- back again, Harry?"  
  
Harry looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore.  
  
"I --- I didn't see you, sir."  
  
"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore said. He was smiling, which came as a relief.  
  
"So," Dumbledore continued, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, "You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."  
  
"I didn't know it was called that, sir."  
  
"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"  
  
"It --- well --- it shows me my family ---"  
  
"And it showed your friend Ron himself as head boy."  
  
"How did you know ---?"  
  
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," Dumbledore said gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror; that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"  
  
Harry said slowly, "It shows us what we want . . . whatever we want . . ."  
  
"Yes and no," Dumbledore replied quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.  
  
"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"  
  
Harry stood up.  
  
"Sir --- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"  
  
"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."  
  
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"  
  
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."  
  
Harry stared.  
  
"One can never have enough socks," Dumbledore told him. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People insist on giving me books."  
  
Harry walked over to me and made to throw the cloak over us, but Dumbledore stopped him. "I would like to talk to Miss Caillet, Harry. I'll see that she gets up to Gryffindor tower." Harry nodded, threw the cloak over himself, and left.  
  
"Professor, I . . ." I began, but Dumbledore cut me off.  
  
"Come with me to my office."  
  
Once seated in Dumbledore's office, I tried to look anywhere but at Dumbledore himself. "I know this is getting hard for you," Dumbledore began. "I've spoken with Lisa and Laura; they told me about the watch and the morphing power." As shocked as I was by this I kept a straight face and said nothing. "I appreciate your attempts to cover up the truth, to keep your word to me, but . . ." he hesitated. "But if it gets to be too hard, please tell me. It is vital that the truth remain unsaid, but I can always take you out of Gryffindor tower, find you another place to stay."  
  
No! I screamed in my head. I don't want another place to stay; I want to tell them all the truth! They deserve to know the truth!  
  
"I know what you saw in the Mirror, and I can imagine how hard it must be to feel that way," Dumbledore told me.  
  
"No," I said quietly, "you can't even begin to imagine what it's like to feel the things that I feel. No one can."  
  
Neither of us said anything for awhile.  
  
"I'm sorry," I finally told him. "You must have some idea, you sent me the only thing that brings me any comfort."  
  
"And what might that be?" Dumbledore inquired.  
  
"My sword."  
  
He smiled. "I thought you might appreciate that."  
  
"May I go now, sir?" I asked.  
  
"Allow me to walk you, otherwise you will most likely get into trouble."  
  
I nodded, and we left Dumbledore's office. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight  
  
When I got back to Gryffindor tower, there was still someone awake in the common room. "Harry?" I walked over and sat down across from him.  
  
"What did you really see in the Mirror?" he asked me. I just looked at him, wondering whether it was safe to tell him or not. My mouth made the decision for me.  
  
"I saw myself," I told him.  
  
"You mean you're happy, really happy? Even though your parents are dead and everything?"  
  
"No, I mean," I hung my head. "Let me rephrase this. I saw the person I want to be. I'm not happy, and I want to be. Does that make more sense?"  
  
"Yeah, a little bit." Harry looked around the common room, and then the question that had been pulling at his brain spilled out. "How do you know so much about what's happening?"  
  
"Harry, I'm . . ." I began. Tired, say you're tired! , I thought, but instead I said, "I'm not from here."  
  
"From England? I know that . . ." I cut Harry off.  
  
"No, I'm not from here, from this world."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I think it's time you knew the truth," I sighed, and then, I told him everything. About Lisa, Laura, and me getting sucked into the Lord of the Rings and Animorphs, how we had to die to get home, how we had to die at the end of the year. I told him about the morphing power, about the watch. Everything. I didn't hold back on any of the details, I just let it all go. It was as if a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders as I ended my story. The only problem was, I was now in tears.  
  
When I concluded my story, Harry just stared at me as if he didn't believe me, which he probably didn't. "Proof."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I need proof."  
  
I looked at him. "Harry, I don't have anything that will make you believe . . ." The book! That had to be why I had it. "Wait, wait right here." I ran up the staircase, into the dormitory, and over to my trunk. I dug through it until I came to the bottom, wiping away my tears as I did so. Finally, I found the book and ran it back down to Harry. "It's all the proof I have," I said as I handed it to him.  
  
Harry took the book and looked at it for a long time, years it seemed. He flipped through it page by page, read bits and pieces here and there. I wrung my hands in anticipation. Finally, Harry looked up from the book. "It's everything that's happened," he said in disbelief. I nodded. "But, how . . .?"  
  
"I honestly don't know," I replied. "But I wish I did."  
  
Harry looked back down at the book.  
  
"So, do you know everything that's going to happen?"  
  
"Yes, but please, don't ask me. You aren't even supposed to know. I swore to Dumbledore that I wouldn't tell anyone or change anything."  
  
"And that's why you lied?"  
  
"Yes, that's why I lied."  
  
Harry was silent.  
  
"I'm sorry I got mad at you," he said slowly.  
  
"That's all right, I would have been mad at me, too."  
  
"Are you scared?"  
  
"Of what?"  
  
"Dying?"  
  
"To death." I smiled and sat down again. "But really you don't feel that much. It's no big deal," I lied.  
  
"No big deal," Harry said, "right." He handed me the book. Then, he got up and made to leave for his dormitory.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Would you mind keeping this just between us?"  
  
"Sure, whatever you want."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Harry then walked up the staircase, and I heard his dormitory door close shut. I looked down at the book in my hand. I got up and went over to one of the windows. I looked skyward, into the velvety darkness of the heavens. I looked to God.  
  
"Why me?" I whispered. I then climbed up the staircase and walked into the girls' dormitory to sleep.  
  
Dumbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloak remained folded at the bottom of his trunk. I had convinced Harry that I was from an alternate universe, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays he didn't know what to make of me.  
  
However, when he started having nightmares, he gave Ron and me the picture. He told us that over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter.  
  
"You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," Ron told him.  
  
Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry and me out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that we hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was. When she said this, Harry looked over at me. He now knew that I knew who Flamel was, but he also knew that I couldn't tell him, as much as I wanted to.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure he'd read the name somewhere. I told him he had, but I wouldn't tell him where. Once term had started, we were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during our breaks. Harry had even less time than the rest of us, because Quidditch practice had started again.  
  
Harry told us that Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys had complained that Wood was becoming fanatic, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, Gryffindor would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.  
  
One night, I was so fed up with homework that, in the rain and mud, I went to watch the Gryffindor team practice. Hermione had lent me the fire- in-a-jar and I was huddled inside my cloak. During this practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.  
  
"Will you stop messing around!" he yelled. "That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"  
  
George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words.  
  
"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."  
  
The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too.  
  
"It's not my fault," Wood told them. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."  
  
Harry and I headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room after the practice session was over, warming our hands with the fire-in-a-jar, where we found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something we all thought was very good for her.  
  
"Don't talk to me for a moment," Ron told us. Harry took a seat next to him, and I sat down next to Hermione. "I need to concen ---" He caught sight of our faces, Harry's especially. "What's the matter with you two? You look terrible?"  
  
Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry explained about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.  
  
"Don't play," Hermione said at once.  
  
"Say you're ill," Ron offered.  
  
"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.  
  
"Really break your leg," Ron told him.  
  
"I can't," Harry told them. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."  
  
At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what we recognized at once as the Leg- Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower. Poor Neville.  
  
Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry, Ron, and me.  
  
"Malfoy," Neville replied shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."  
  
"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"  
  
Neville shook his head.  
  
"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.  
  
"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron told him. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."  
  
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.  
  
Harry felt in the pockets of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.  
  
"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry told him. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."  
  
"Yeah, Neville, you can take on Malfoy any old time! All he is, is a bunch of talk. If Malfoy had gotten into Gryffindor, and not you, hell, I don't know what we'd do!"  
  
Neville's lips twitched in a weak smiled. He then opened the frog.  
  
"Thanks, Courtney, thanks, Harry . . . I think I'll go to bed . . . D'you want the card, Harry, you collect them, don't you?"  
  
As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card. My heart fluttered. I knew what was coming next.  
  
"Dumbledore again," Harry said. "He was the first one I ever ---"  
  
He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron, Hermione, and me.  
  
"I've found him!" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here --- listen to this; 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!"  
  
Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since we had gotten back the marks for our very first piece of homework.  
  
"Stay there!" she told us, and then she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Harry looked at Ron, confused, and then he looked at me. I smiled and nodded just as Hermione came dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.  
  
"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."  
  
"Light?" Ron remarked, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.  
  
At last she found what she was looking for.  
  
"I knew it! I knew it!"  
  
"Are we allowed to speak yet?" Ron asked grumpily. Hermione ignored him.  
  
"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"  
  
This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.  
  
"The what?" Harry and Ron asked.  
  
"Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look --- read that, there."  
  
She pushed the book towards the three of us, and, even though I knew what I was about to read, I read it along with Harry and Ron anyway. We read:  
  
The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.  
  
There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).  
  
"See?" Hermione said, when we had finished reading. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"  
  
"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" Harry said. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."  
  
"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry," Ron added. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"  
  
The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, we were all discussing what we would do with a Sorcerer's Stone if we had one. When Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team, we all remembered about Snape and the coming match.  
  
"I'm going to play," Harry told us. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them . . . it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."  
  
"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," Hermione said.  
  
"You'll be fine," I told him. He relaxed, which was good, but the only problem was, I didn't know if my words were the truth or not. I couldn't remember everything.  
  
The match drew nearer and, on the afternoon of the match, Ron, Hermione, and I all wished him luck outside the locker rooms. Ron and Hermione were acting as if they would never see him alive again, I on the other hand knew he would be fine. Harry went into the locker room to change; Ron, Hermione, and I found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why Ron and Hermione looked so grim and worried, or why they had brought their wands to the match. I had mine as well, due to Hermione forcing me to. Harry didn't know it, but we had all been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker curse. We had gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and we were ready to us it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.  
  
"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron and I slipped our wands up our sleeves.  
  
"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."  
  
Hermione looked at me.  
  
"What? I know it," I told her. She nodded, clearly satisfied, and turned her attention to the field. I scanned the stands to see who was there. Suddenly, I noticed a familiar face that made my heart fly. "Dumbledore's here!"  
  
"What?" Hermione and Ron both said in unison.  
  
"Yeah, right over there!" I replied, pointing toward Dumbledore.  
  
We all laughed in relief. Harry was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare try to hurt him if Dumbledore was watching.  
  
Perhaps that's why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field. Ron noticed it as well.  
  
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione and me. "Look --- they're off. Ouch!"  
  
Someone had just poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.  
  
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."  
  
Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. Lisa, I suddenly realized, was, for once, not with the boys. I didn't care at the moment. I put my focus back on the game.  
  
"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered.  
  
Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.  
  
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Malfoy said loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money --- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."  
  
Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.  
  
"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.  
  
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."  
  
I sensed a fight coming on, and even though I could have done so much to prevent it, I refused to take my eyes away from the game.  
  
"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."  
  
Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.  
  
"I'm warning you Malfoy --- one more word ---"  
  
"Ron!" Hermione said suddenly, "Harry ---!"  
  
"What? Where?"  
  
Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet. She was making me nervous, so I stood up as well.  
  
"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" Malfoy remarked.  
  
Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.  
  
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione and I screamed together, leaping onto our seats to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape --- we didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under our seats, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.  
  
Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches --- the next second, Harry pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.  
  
The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.  
  
"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor's in the lead!" Hermione shrieked, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front. I had no one to hug, so I hugged myself. My grin was splitting my face in two, but I didn't care.  
  
Hermione came out of her embrace with Parvati and turned to me. Still dancing up and down, we hugged one another.  
  
Down below, Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. The look on his face said that he couldn't believe what had just happened. Ron (with a heavy nosebleed), Hermione, and I filtered down to the field with the rest of the Gryffindors to congratulate Harry on his victory.  
  
Alone and cold, I waited outside the locker room for Harry. Everyone else had gone back up to the castle to celebrate, but it was too noisy for me. Harry came out of the locker room alone some time after the game. He was heading to the broomshed to put away his Nimbus Two Thousand. He walked straight past me in his happiness, so I trotted to catch up with him. "Congratulations," I said when I got near enough.  
  
"Oh, thanks!" he said, slowing down some.  
  
"You should have seen the look on Snape's face when you shot past him!" I laughed. Harry joined in.  
  
"You were right, I was fine," Harry told me.  
  
"I'm always right," I said sarcastically with a smile.  
  
We had reached the shed. "I guess I showed Snape, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, you showed a lot of people."  
  
"Speaking of Snape . . ." Harry looked past me. I turned and saw a hooded figure come swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. I recognized the figure's prowling walk. It was Snape, sneaking into the forest --- while everyone else was at dinner.  
  
Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and told me to get on. "Will it hold two people?" I asked warily.  
  
"I guess we'll find out," Harry replied. I got on and held on tight to Harry's robes. I closed my eyes for the lift-off, but soon lost all feeling of fear. I opened my eyes. It was great! The wind was in my hair; it was exactly like flying in a bird morph, only better, in my opinion.  
  
Gliding silently over the castle we saw Snape enter the forest at a run. We followed.  
  
The trees were so thick we couldn't see where Snape had gone. Harry took the broom in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until we could hear voices. We glided toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree.  
  
Harry carefully climbed along one of the branches, holding tight to the broomstick, trying to see through the leaves, while I lingered behind. I could hear perfectly fine from where I was, no need to repeat past mistakes.  
  
Below us, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. I knew this because from my perch in the tree, I could vaguely make out his ugly purple turban. I couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry seemed to be straining to catch what they were saying, but I could hear them pretty well.  
  
" . . . d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus . . ."  
  
"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," Snape said, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all.  
  
Quirrell was muttering something, but it was too low for me to make out. Snape interrupted him.  
  
"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"  
  
"B-b-but Severus, I ---"  
  
"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," Snape warned, taking a step toward Quirrell.  
  
"I-I don't know what you ---"  
  
"You know perfectly well what I mean."  
  
An owl hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. I grabbed his robes and steadied him in time for us to hear Snape say, "--- your little bit of hocus pocus. I'm waiting."  
  
"B-but I d-d-don't ---"  
  
"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."  
  
He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but I could see Quirrell, standing quite still as though he was petrified.  
  
I gave Harry's robes a slight tug and jerked my head to tell him we should leave. He nodded and we got back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and rode to the broomshed.  
  
Neither of us talked on our way back to Gryffindor tower. When we walked in, Hermione squeaked, "Where have you two been?"  
  
"We won! You won! We won!" Ron shouted, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right --- talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."  
  
"Never mind that now," Harry said breathlessly. Then he looked at me, and then back and Ron and Hermione. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this . . ."  
  
Harry made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind us, then he told Hermione and Ron what we had seen. I kept my mouth shut, like usual when it came to explaining stuff.  
  
"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy --- and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus' --- I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through ---"  
  
"So you mean the Stone's safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" Hermione asked in alarm.  
  
"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," Ron remarked.  
  
I, of course, knew better, but they didn't need to know that, not just yet anyway. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine  
  
Quirrell turned out to be braver than Harry, Ron, and Hermione had thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but to them it didn't look as though he had cracked yet. I knew he had already cracked.  
  
Every time we passed the third-floor corridor, we all would press our ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which, to the other three, surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever he passed Quirrell, Harry would give him an encouraging smile, and Ron started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell's stutter. I refused to take part in the encouragement.  
  
Hermione, on the other hand, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and color-coding all her notes. None of us would have minded, but she kept nagging us to do the same.  
  
"Hermione, the exams are ages away," Harry told her.  
  
"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."  
  
"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are you studying for, you already know it all."  
  
"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me . . ."  
  
Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on us that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry, Ron, and I spent most of our free time in the library with her, trying to get through all our extra work.  
  
"I'll never remember this," Ron burst one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. I had to share his aggravation. Don't get me wrong, I'm usually all for hanging out in the library, but it was the first really nice day we'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.  
  
I didn't look up from One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, which I was testing Harry on, until I heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"  
  
Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.  
  
"Jus' lookin'," he told us, in a shifty voice that got our interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"  
  
"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," Ron replied impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's St ---"  
  
"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"  
  
"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter-of-fact," Harry said, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy ---"  
  
"SHHHH!" Hagrid hissed again. "Listen --- come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh ---"  
  
"See you later then," Harry told him.  
  
Hagrid shuffled off.  
  
"What was he hiding behind his back?" Hermione wondered aloud.  
  
"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?" Harry asked, looking at me. I looked back down at my book.  
  
"I'm going to see what section he was in," announced Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.  
  
"Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."  
  
"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," Harry remarked.  
  
"But it's against our laws," Ron explained. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden -- - anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."  
  
"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" Harry said.  
  
"Of course there are," Ron replied. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job of hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget.  
  
"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" Hermione wondered.  
  
Harry looked at me again, but I didn't say a thing.  
  
When we knocked on the door of Hagrid's hut an hour later, we were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called, "Who is it?" before he let us in, and then shut the door quickly behind us.  
  
It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a fire blazing in the grate. Hagrid made us tea and offered us some stoat sandwiches, which we wisely refused.  
  
"So --- yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"  
  
"Yes," Harry replied. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy."  
  
Hagrid frowned at him.  
  
"O' course I can't," he told him. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. The Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts --- I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."  
  
"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and we could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."  
  
Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. The rest of us beamed at Hermione.  
  
"Well, I don't s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that . . . let's see . . . he borrowed Fluffy from me . . . then some o' the teachers did enchantments . . . Professor Sprout --- Professor Flitwick --- Professor McGonagall ---" he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell --- an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."  
  
"Snape?" everyone except me yelled in surprise.  
  
"Yeah --- yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."  
  
"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" Harry asked anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"  
  
That's when I knew his thoughts, and Hermione and Ron's as well. They thought that, if Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. They figured he probably knew everything except Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.  
  
"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," Hagrid replied to Harry's question proudly.  
  
"Well, that's something," Harry muttered to the rest of us. "Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."  
  
"Can't, Harry, sorry," Hagrid apologized. We all noticed him glance at the fire. We all looked at it, too.  
  
"Hagrid --- what's that?" Harry asked.  
  
But I was pretty sure he already knew what it was, I know I did. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.  
  
"Ah," Hagrid said, fiddling nervously with his beard, "that's --- er . . ."  
  
"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" Ron asked, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."  
  
"Won it," Hagrid told him. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."  
  
"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Well, I've been doin' some readin'," Hagrid told her, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library --- Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit --- it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half-hour. An' see here --- how ter recognize diff'rent eggs --- what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."  
  
He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't.  
  
"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she remarked.  
  
But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire. I burst out laughing. No one else, however, found anything very humorous.  
  
So now we had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.  
  
"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed, as evening after evening we struggled through all the extra homework we were getting. Hermione had now started making study schedules for Harry, Ron, and me, too. It was driving us nuts.  
  
In response to Ron's question, I said, "There's no such thing as peaceful." He and Harry murmured in agreement.  
  
Then, one breakfast time, Hedwig dropped a note to Harry from Hagrid. Harry showed it to us. There were only two words on the note: It's hatching.  
  
Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Hermione wouldn't hear of it.  
  
"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"  
  
"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing ---"  
  
"Shut up!" Harry hissed.  
  
I looked around and saw Malfoy standing only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? I didn't like the look on his face. I looked behind him, and there was Lisa. She smiled with a wink, and then she tried to lead Malfoy away. I smiled and shook my head.  
  
Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's with the rest of us during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of our lesson, we all dropped our trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted us, looking flushed and excited.  
  
"It's nearly out." He ushered us inside.  
  
The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it.  
  
We all drew our chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.  
  
All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; I thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.  
  
It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.  
  
"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.  
  
"Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!" Hagrid cooed.  
  
"Hagrid," Hermione said, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"  
  
Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face --- he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.  
  
"What's the matter?  
  
"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains --- it's a couple of kids --- they're runnin' back up ter the school."  
  
We all bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking them.  
  
Malfoy had seen the dragon, and Lisa had let him.  
  
Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy and Lisa's faces during the next week made us all very nervous. We spent most of our free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.  
  
"Just let him go," Harry urged. "Set him free."  
  
"I can't," Hagrid insisted. "He's too little. He'd die."  
  
We looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.  
  
"I've decided to call him Norbert," Hagrid told us, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mommy?"  
  
"He's lost his marbles," I heard Ron mutter to Harry as I tried to stifle a laugh.  
  
"Hagrid," Harry said loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."  
  
Hagrid bit his lip.  
  
"I --- I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."  
  
Harry suddenly turned to Ron.  
  
"Charlie," he said.  
  
"You're losing it, too," Ron told him. "I'm Ron, remember?"  
  
"No --- Charlie --- your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"  
  
"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. "How about it, Hagrid?"  
  
And in the end, Hagrid agreed that we could send an owl to Charlie and ask him.  
  
The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione, Harry, and me sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's invisibility cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.  
  
"It bit me!" he said, showing us his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."  
  
There was a tap on the dark window as I took Ron's hand into mine to look at it.  
  
"It's Hedwig!" Harry said, hurrying to let her in. "She'll have Charlie's answer!"  
  
We all put our heads together to read the note.  
  
Dear Ron,  
  
How are you? Thanks for the letter --- I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.  
  
Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.  
  
Send me an answer as soon as possible.  
  
Love, Charlie  
  
We all looked at each other.  
  
"We've got the invisibility cloak," Harry said. "It shouldn't be too difficult --- I think the cloak's big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."  
  
It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the rest of us agreed with him. Even me, and I knew what was coming. Anything to get rid of Norbert --- and Malfoy and Lisa.  
  
There was a hitch, like always. By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey --- would she recognize a dragon bite? Even I couldn't answer that. By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.  
  
At the end of the day, Harry, Hermione, and I rushed up to the hospital wing to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.  
  
"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me --- I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me --- I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."  
  
Harry, Hermione, and I tried to calm Ron down.  
  
"I'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," Hermione said, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.  
  
"Midnight on Saturday!" he moaned in a hoarse voice. "Oh no --- oh no --- I've just remembered --- Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."  
  
We didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made us leave, saying Ron needed to sleep.  
  
"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told Hermione and me. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."  
  
We found Fang the boarhound sitting outside with a bandaged tail when we went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to us.  
  
"I won't let you in," he puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage --- nothin' I can't handle."  
  
When we told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.  
  
"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot --- jus' playin' --- he's only a baby after all."  
  
The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. We walked back to the castle feeling Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.  
  
We would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if we hadn't been so worried about what we had to do. Actually, I had convinced the other two to let me go instead of Hermione. I said that it would go on her record if she was caught and stuff like that. It worked, luckily.  
  
It was a very dark, cloudy night, and Harry and I were a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because we had to wait for Peeves to get out of our way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall.  
  
Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.  
  
"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid told us in a muffled voice. "And' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."  
  
From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded as though the teddy was having its head torn off.  
  
"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and I covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it ourselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"  
  
How we managed to get the crate back up to the castle, we never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as we heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another --- even one of Harry's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.  
  
"Nearly there!" Harry panted as we reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.  
  
Then a sudden movement ahead of us made us almost drop the crate. Forgetting that we were already invisible, we shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared.  
  
Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.  
  
"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you ---"  
  
"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming --- he's got a dragon!"  
  
"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on --- I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"  
  
The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until we'd stepped out into the cold night air did we throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. I began to dance and made Harry join me.  
  
"Malfoy's got detention! I feel like singing!"  
  
"Don't," Harry smiled. We laughed together. It felt so good to laugh.  
  
"It's kinda cold," I said, aiming to spark up a conversation. Instead of talking, however, Harry threw the invisibility cloak around my shoulders and his. I looked down and could only see a small portion of our bodies. I began to laugh.  
  
"What's so funny?" Harry asked.  
  
"What this must look like, two floating heads," I giggled.  
  
"Oh," Harry said, and then joined in my laughter. Suddenly, his hand closed around mine. My heart fluttered and I looked over at him. He smiled, and all I could do was smile back.  
  
I came a voice in my head. Judging by the look on Harry's face and the sudden retraction of his hand, he had heard it, too. Then, we looked down and saw . . .  
  
"Mrs. Norris?"  
  
"Lisa, how did you get a Mrs. Norris morph?"  
  
The cat began to grow and it soon became Lisa.  
  
"I'm just smart like that," she replied.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked. Lisa motioned toward Norbert's crate.  
  
"Good luck," I mumbled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"She wants to acquire Norbert's DNA," I explained. Harry still looked confused as Lisa knelt down and opened the crate just enough to stick her hand in. Norbert got unusually quiet for a few seconds, but then he began thrashing again. Lisa jerked her hand out of the crate and it took the three of us to get the crate closed again.  
  
By the time we looked up again, four broomsticks were heading straight for us out of the darkness. Lisa jumped into the shadows as they landed.  
  
Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Harry and me the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. We all buckled Norbert safely into it and then Harry and I shook hands with the men and thanked them very, very much.  
  
At last, Norbert was going . . . going . . . gone.  
  
Harry and I, our hearts as light as our hands, now that Norbert was off of them, slipped back down the spiral staircase with Lisa behind us. She was too drained to morph again, so she was still a human. No more dragon --- Malfoy in detention --- what could spoil our happiness?  
  
The answer to that was waiting at the foot of the stairs. As we stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.  
  
"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."  
  
If I hadn't been so wrapped in my joy, my emotions, my feelings for Harry, I would have remembered the thing most vital to change. We had left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower. 


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten  
  
Things couldn't have been worse. Not even in Middle Earth.  
  
Filch took us down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where we sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Lisa sat silently in thought on my right; Harry did the same on my left. I tried not to think at all because the thoughts churned my stomach. There was no way out of trouble this time. Not even Lisa could get out of a punishment. If she morphed and disappeared, then she'd be in even more trouble. How could I have been so stupid as to forget the cloak? I knew it was up there! There was absolutely no excuse that Professor McGonagall would accept for our being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy tower, which was out-of- bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the invisibility cloak, and we might as well be packing our bags already.  
  
Did I say things couldn't have been worse? I was wrong. When Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville.  
  
"Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw us. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag ---"  
  
Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert ever had as she towered over the four of us.  
  
"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."  
  
Lisa was speechless. Harry just stared at Professor McGonagall and Neville. I hung my head in a mixture of shame and guilt.  
  
"I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," Professor McGonagall told us. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"  
  
I tried to catch Neville's eye and reassure him that none of that was true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. My heart ached for Neville. I could only imagine what it must have cost him to try and find us in the dark, to warn us.  
  
"I'm disgusted," Professor McGonagall continued. "Five students out of bed in one night! I've never heard of such a thing before! You, Miss Caillet, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you than this. And Miss Davis, I'll be seeing Professor Snape about you. All four of you will receive detentions --- yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around the school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous --- and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor and Slytherin."  
  
"Fifty?" Harry gasped.  
  
"Fifty points each," Professor McGonagall said, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose.  
  
"Professor --- please ---"  
  
"You can't ---"  
  
"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you. I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students."  
  
A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place for the house cup. In one night, we had ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup. Lisa left us at some point along the way. I hoped she wouldn't get in too much trouble. She was in the dominating house, how could she?  
  
Neville was beginning to sniffle. I couldn't listen to him with an easy heart. "Neville, it wasn't true, what McGonagall said," I told him.  
  
"Leave me alone."  
  
The rest of the walk to Gryffindor tower was a silent one. Once inside, Neville ran off to bed. Harry started up the steps to his dormitory. I, on the other hand, broke down into tears. The very same tears I had been holding back since the beginning of the school year.  
  
"Courtney?" Harry walked back down the stairs. I tried to stop crying, but I couldn't.  
  
"I want to go home," I confessed through my sobs. Harry hesitated, and then he put his arms around me. I shouldn't have let him, I should have broken away, but I didn't. Even with the knowledge that it would just complicate things even more, I couldn't walk away. It felt nice to have someone care, to have someone try to understand.  
  
"Please, don't cry," Harry told me. I don't want to, I thought, but I still couldn't stop the tears. "Everything will be okay."  
  
"No, everything won't be okay, not for me," I said, wiping my cheeks and eyes. "My life's been ruined beyond repair." With that, as bad as it felt, I turned my back on Harry and walked up to my dormitory where Hermione was waiting.  
  
"What happened?" she asked.  
  
"Just feel lucky you weren't there," I muttered, and then I climbed into my bed and shut the curtains before she could question me further.  
  
At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points less than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost them all those points, him and a couple of other stupid first years, including the suspicious American.  
  
From being one of the most popular and admired people in the school, Harry was suddenly the most hated. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. Everywhere Harry went, me walking right beside him, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks Potter, we owe you one."  
  
I, luckily, was already ignored and despised, so my popularity couldn't drop any lower with the situation. For this reason, I, along with Hermione and Ron, stood by Harry.  
  
"They'll forget this in a few weeks. Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them," Ron tried to reassure Harry.  
  
"They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?" Harry said miserably.  
  
"Well --- no," Ron admitted.  
  
"Come on, Harry, it's too late to repair the damage. Let's just never meddle in things that don't concern us, ever again."  
  
Harry agreed with me, and even Hermione and Ron got in on the vow.  
  
Harry felt so badly about what he had done he went to Wood and offered to resign from the Quidditch team. According to him, this is what happened on the Quidditch field.  
  
"Resign?" Wood had thundered. "What good'll that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?"  
  
Quidditch had even lost its fun for Harry. The rest of the team wouldn't speak to him during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him "the Seeker."  
  
Neville and I were suffering, too. We, of course, didn't have as bad a time as Harry, because we weren't as well known. Like I said before, everyone already hated me for obvious reasons. No one would speak to Neville now, though. I felt bad for him.  
  
I was actually glad that the exams weren't far away. Harry shared my feelings. All the studying we had to do kept our mind off our misery. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and I kept to ourselves, working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions, etc.  
  
Then, about a week before exams were due to start, our resolution not to interfere in anything that didn't concern us was put to a very unexpected test. Harry and I were walking back from the library one afternoon when we heard somebody whimpering from a classroom up ahead. As we drew nearer, we heard Quirrell's voice.  
  
"No --- no --- not again, please ---"  
  
It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry motioned for me to stay put while he moved closer. Naturally, I ignored him.  
  
"All right --- all right ---" we heard Quirrell sob.  
  
Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; I don't think he even noticed Harry and me. We waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. We were halfway toward it before we remembered what we'd promised ourselves about meddling.  
  
"Harry, let's go," I said. Harry nodded and we walked back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them about what we'd just heard.  
  
"Snape's done it, then!" Ron said. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell ---"  
  
Of course, how could I have forgotten? They still thought Snape was after the stone. I decided to go with it until we got down to the trapdoor.  
  
"There's still Fluffy, though," Hermione remarked.  
  
"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," Ron suggested, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding us. "I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three- headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?"  
  
The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could.  
  
"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."  
  
"But we've got no proof!" Harry told her. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor --- who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."  
  
Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't.  
  
"If we just did a bit of poking around ---"  
  
"No," Harry said flatly, "we've done enough poking around."  
  
He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and began learning the names of its moons. I sat down next to him and looked dazedly out the window. Things were getting way too complicated for me to handle alone. If I could just tell them what was going to happen . . .  
  
No, I had to keep my mouth shut.  
  
I began studying more potions.  
  
The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Neville, and me at the breakfast table. They were all the same:  
  
Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight.  
Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.  
  
(Professor M. McGonagall)  
  
I had forgotten that we still had detentions to do in the furor over the points we'd lost. Judging by the look on Harry's face so had he. I felt, however, that we deserved what we got.  
  
At eleven o'clock we said good-bye to Ron and Hermione and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there --- and so was Malfoy and Lisa. I had also forgotten that they had received detention, too.  
  
"Follow me," Filch told us all, lighting a lamp and leading us outside.  
  
"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at us. "Oh yes . . . hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me . . . It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out . . . hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed . . . Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."  
  
We marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffling. I tried to keep a calm exterior, but inside I was terrified. Just remembering my experience in Fangorn Forest made me wary to go inside of the Forbidden Forest.  
  
The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing us into darkness. Ahead, I could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then we heard a distant shout.  
  
"Is that you Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."  
  
Harry got a look of relief on his face, thinking that if we were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. But Filch, seeing his relief, said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy --- it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."  
  
At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night --- there's all sorts of things in there --- werewolves, I heard."  
  
Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise.  
  
"That's your problem, isn't it?" Filch told Malfoy, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"  
  
Hagrid came striding toward us out of the dark, Fang at his heels. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.  
  
"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Courtney?"  
  
"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," Filch told him coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all."  
  
"That's why yer late, is it?" Hagrid asked, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."  
  
"I'll be back at dawn," Filch said, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.  
  
Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.  
  
"I'm not going in that forest," he remarked. There was a note of panic in his voice.  
  
"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," Hagrid told him fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."  
  
"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd ---"  
  
"--- tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"  
  
Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.  
  
"Right then," Hagrid said, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."  
  
He led us to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted our hair as we looked into the forest.  
  
"Look there," Hagrid told us, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."  
  
"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" Malfoy asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.  
  
"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," Hagrid assured him. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."  
  
"I want Fang," Malfoy said quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.  
  
"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," Hagrid told him. "So me, Harry, an' Courtney'll go one way and Draco, Neville, Lisa, an' Fang'll go the other. Now if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now --- that's it --- an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh --- so, be careful --- let's go."  
  
The forest was black and silent. A little ways into it we reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Hagrid, and I took the left path while Malfoy, Neville, Lisa, and Fang took the right.  
  
We walked in silence, our eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.  
  
I could see that Hagrid looked very worried.  
  
"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.  
  
"Not fast enough," Hagrid replied. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."  
  
We walked past a mossy tree stump. I could hear running water; there must have been a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.  
  
"You all right, Courtney?" Hagrid whispered. "Don't worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter --- GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"  
  
Hagrid seized Harry and me and hoisted us off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of us listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.  
  
"I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."  
  
"A werewolf?" Harry suggested.  
  
"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," Hagrid said grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."  
  
As we began walking again, I took hold of Harry's hand. It comforted me, and I relaxed a little. We walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.  
  
"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself --- I'm armed!"  
  
And into the clearing came --- was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry's and my jaws dropped.  
  
"Oh, it's you, Ronan," Hagrid sad in relief. "How are yeh?"  
  
He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.  
  
"Good evening to you, Hagrid," Ronan greeted. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"  
  
"Can't be too careful, Ronan," Hagrid replied, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an' Courtney Caillet, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur."  
  
"We'd noticed," I told him faintly.  
  
"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"  
  
"Erm ---"  
  
"A bit," I replied timidly. This guy made me a little uneasy.  
  
"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."  
  
"Yeah," Hagrid agreed, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt --- you seen anythin'?"  
  
Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.  
  
"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages, so it is now."  
  
You're telling me, I thought.  
  
"Yeah," Hagrid said, "but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"  
  
"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."  
  
"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home," Hagrid told him. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"  
  
Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."  
  
A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder looking than Ronan.  
  
"Hullo, Bane," Hagrid greeted the second centaur. "All right?"  
  
"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"  
  
"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured --- would yeh know anythin' about it?"  
  
Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward.  
  
"Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.  
  
"We've heard," Hagrid muttered grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."  
  
Harry and I followed him out of the clearing, staring over our shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked our view.  
  
"Never," Hagrid told us irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."  
  
"Are there many of them in here?" I asked for no particular reason. I was just trying to make conversation.  
  
"Oh, a fair few . . . Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs . . . they know things . . . jus' don' let on much."  
  
"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" Harry asked.  
  
"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns --- never heard anythin' like it before."  
  
We walked on through the dense, dark trees. I saw Harry keep looking nervously over his shoulder. He made me nervous, and I began to do the same. It began to feel as though we were being watched. I was very glad that we had Hagrid and his crossbow with us. We had just passed a bend in the path when I saw something that made my heart leap.  
  
"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"  
  
"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"  
  
We heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared to be honest, until we couldn't hear anything but the rustling of the leaves around us.  
  
"I hope they haven't been hurt," I whispered.  
  
"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville . . . it's all our fault he's here in the first place."  
  
"Yeah, and I hope nothing happened to Lisa," I muttered.  
  
"She'll be fine," Harry said, but then added, "one way or the other."  
  
"I hope it's one way and not the other," I admitted. I knew if Lisa died she'd go home, but I next to never saw Laura, and I didn't want to be alone.  
  
The minutes dragged by. My ears seemed sharper than usual. We seemed to be picking up every sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? I'd never imagined it'd take so long to get them.  
  
At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Malfoy, Neville, Lisa, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Lisa was laughing. Malfoy had snuck up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.  
  
"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you three were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups --- Neville, you stay with me. Harry and Courtney, you go with Fang and these two idiots. I'm sorry," he then added in a whisper to Harry and me, "but you two can keep them under control, an' we've gotta get this done."  
  
So Harry and I set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy, Lisa, and Fang. Lisa was still smiling. "It couldn't have been that funny," I whispered.  
  
"Oh, it was," she told me. I shook my head and smiled as well.  
  
We walked for nearly a half an hour more in silence, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. The blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. I could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.  
  
"Look ---" Harry murmured, holding his arm up to stop Malfoy. Lisa and I stopped behind them.  
  
Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. We inched closer.  
  
It was a unicorn all right, and it was on its deathbed. I had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves. "Courtney," Lisa hissed in my ear, "I have got to acquire it."  
  
"No, Lisa," I began, but she was already walking away. I went after her. She was soon kneeling down next to the unicorn and placing her hand on its head. The unicorn went stiff. Within seconds, Lisa was standing up and we were running back to the boys. A few minutes later, the unicorn died. A couple of minutes after this happened, Harry took a step toward the creature, when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered . . . Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. The five of us, Harry, Malfoy, Lisa, Fang, and I, all stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAARGH!"  
  
Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted --- so did Fang. Lisa and I crouched in the shadows. Lisa began to morph; what she was morphing, I couldn't tell. Something small.  
  
The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry --- unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Harry --- Harry wasn't moving.  
  
Harry began staggering backward. I could hear hooves behind me, but out of fear, I sent up red sparks. Suddenly, something jumped clean over me, clean over Harry, charging at the figure.  
  
Harry fell to his knees, and I got up and went over to him. It took a minute or two for him to look at me. Then we both looked up and saw that the figure was gone. Lisa quickly demorphed and knelt down next to me. A centaur, the three of us saw, was standing over us, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blonde hair and a palomino body.  
  
"Are you all right?" the centaur asked, pulling Harry to his feet. Lisa and I stood up as well.  
  
"Yes --- thank you --- what was that?"  
  
The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Harry's forehead. I suddenly realized why he had staggered and fallen.  
  
"You are the Potter boy," the centaur said. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time --- especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.  
  
"My name is Firenze," he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber onto his back. "I can only carry one," Firenze then told Lisa and me.  
  
"Ah, we can run," Lisa replied. I nodded in agreement.  
  
There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.  
  
"Firenze!" Bane thundered. "What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"  
  
"Do you realize who this is?" Firenze asked. "This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this forest, the better."  
  
"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"  
  
Ronan pawed the ground nervously. "I'm sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best," he said in his gloomy voice.  
  
Bane kicked his back legs in anger.  
  
"For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"  
  
Firenze suddenly reared on to his hind legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.  
  
"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed at Bane. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."  
  
And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the trees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them. Surprisingly, Lisa and I managed to keep up with them.  
  
"Why's Bane so angry?" Harry asked Firenze. "What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?"  
  
Firenze slowed to a walk, and so did Lisa and I, and then Firenze warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches. He didn't answer Harry's question, though. We made our way through the trees in silence for so long that I thought everyone had forgotten how to talk. We were passing through a particularly dense patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.  
  
"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"  
  
"No," Harry replied. He sounded startled; as well he should have been at such a question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."  
  
"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," Firenze told him. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."  
  
Harry stared at the back of Firenze's head while Lisa and I looked at each other.  
  
"But who'd be that desperate?" Harry wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"  
  
"It is," Firenze agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else --- something that will bring you back to full strength and power --- something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"  
  
"The Sorcerer's Stone! Of course --- the Elixir of Life! But I don't understand who ---"  
  
"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"  
  
A shocked expression came over Harry's face. "Do you mean," he croaked, "that was Vol---"  
  
"Harry! Harry, are you all right?"  
  
Hagrid was running toward us down the path, Neville, Malfoy, and Fang not far behind him.  
  
"I'm fine," Harry told him. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."  
  
"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."  
  
Harry slid off his back.  
  
"Good luck, Harry Potter," Firenze said. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."  
  
He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving our little group of shivering kids in the dark.  
  
Hagrid came back after a while. He led us out of the forest and we didn't even wait for Filch to come back and get us. I was thankful to be out of the forest.  
  
Eventually, we said good-bye to Lisa and Malfoy. Then, Harry, Neville, and I made our way up to Gryffindor tower. Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for us to return. Ron shouted something about Quidditch fouls when we woke him up. Hermione shouted something about forgetting to study for the Potions exam. In a matter of seconds, though, they were both wide-eyed as Harry began to tell them what had happened in the forest.  
  
Harry kept pacing up and down in front of the fire. I couldn't sit either. I just stood with my arms crossed.  
  
"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort . . . and Voldemort's waiting in the forest . . . and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich . . ."  
  
"Stop saying the name!" Ron said in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear us.  
  
Harry wasn't listening.  
  
"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so . . . Bane was furious . . . he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen . . .They must show Voldemort's coming back . . . Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me . . . I suppose that's written in the stars as well."  
  
"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.  
  
"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off . . . Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."  
  
Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort, which is more than anyone else had.  
  
"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."  
  
The sky had turned light before we stopped talking. We headed off to bed, exhausted, our throats sore. At the top of the staircase, Hermione walked off to our dormitory. I told her I'd be there in a minute. As Harry walked through his dormitory door, I stopped him.  
  
"Harry, I just wanted to tell you not to be frightened," I said. "If anything bad happens, it's going to happen to me." Harry took my hand.  
  
"I hope not." Then he kissed me gently on my cheek. My face flushed and I looked past him. There was something glimmering on Harry's bed.  
  
"What's that on your bed?" I asked. Harry looked.  
  
"I don't know." He walked over and picked it up. "It's my invisibility cloak." He unpinned the note on it. Then he handed it to me.  
  
Just in case.  
  
I looked back up at Harry.  
  
"Courtney?" Hermione called from our dormitory.  
  
"Coming," I said. Then I gave Harry back the note. "We'll talk later," I told him, and walked into the girls' dormitory for some overdue sleep. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven  
  
What can I say about exams? Take the hardest test you've ever had . . . and multiply it twenty times. That should give you a good idea of what they were like.  
  
It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where we did our written papers. We had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell (can you imagine?).  
  
We had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called us one by one into his class to see if we could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched us turn a mouse into a snuffbox --- points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made us all nervous, breathing down our necks while we tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion that I conveniently, well, forgot. Oh well, not like I was going to be around to find out my results.  
  
Our very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who'd invented self-stirring cauldrons and it would all be over. We would be free, free for a whole wonderful week until the exam results came out. Well, that's what I thought at the time.  
  
When the ghost of Professor Binns told us to put down our quills and roll up our parchment, I couldn't help cheering with the rest.  
  
"That was far easier that I thought it would be," Hermione said as we joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfric the Eager."  
  
Hermione liked to go through our exam papers afterward, but Ron said this made him feel ill, so we wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.  
  
I stood up to stretch and suddenly saw a couple of blonde-headed girls running toward me, one of them jumping as she ran. I laughed as Lisa tackled me to the ground. "No more studying!" she screamed.  
  
"It's over, we're free!" Laura cried. "Sweet, glorious freedom!"  
  
I continued to laugh and everyone couldn't help joining in.  
  
"Lisa?"  
  
"Laura?"  
  
Malfoy and Cedric Diggory were walking toward us.  
  
"Coming!" the twins yelled together. Then they ran over to whichever guy had called their name. They left, waving good-bye over their shoulders.  
  
"For once, I agree with a Slytherin," Ron sighed happily stretching out on the grass. "No more studying." He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he said, "You could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."  
Harry was rubbing his forehead.  
  
"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting --- it's happened before, but never as often as this."  
  
"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.  
  
"I'm not ill," Harry told her. "I think it's a warning . . . it means danger's coming."  
  
"Something like that," I muttered, flopping onto my back in the soft grass, but I think only Harry heard me, and he didn't say anything.  
  
Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.  
  
"Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get pasty Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once; he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."  
  
Harry nodded. He then tried to explain to Hermione and me that he felt like there was something he'd forgotten to do, something important. Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I remembered we'd done that one." I laughed because it was true. She had woken me up with her shuffling feet.  
  
An owl fluttered toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth.  
  
Harry suddenly jumped to his feet.  
  
"Where're you going?" Ron asked sleepily.  
  
"I've just thought of something," Harry told him. He had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."  
  
"Why?" Hermione panted, hurrying to keep up with him. We all were.  
  
"Don't you think it's a bit odd," Harry began explaining, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Rona asked, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.  
  
Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.  
  
"Hullo," he greeted, smiling. "Finished yer exams? Got time fer a drink?"  
  
"Yes, please," Ron said, but Harry cut him off.  
  
"No, we're in a hurry. Hagrid, I've got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"  
  
"Dunno," Hagrid replied casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off."  
  
The four of us raised our eyebrows.  
  
"It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head --- that's the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."  
  
Harry sank down next to the bowl of peas.  
  
"What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"  
  
"Mighta come up," Hagrid said, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah . . . he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here . . . He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I looked after . . . so I told him . . . an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon . . . an' then . . . I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks . . . Let's see . . . yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted . . . but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home . . . So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy . . ."  
  
"And did he --- did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked, his voice just barely calm.  
  
"Well --- yeah --- how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep ---"  
  
"Better get Neville a broomstick, he's playing for England," I muttered. I knew Hagrid hadn't meant to let Dumbledore down, but he had.  
  
Hagrid suddenly looked horrified.  
  
"I shouldn'ta told yeh that!" he blurted out. "Forget I said it! Hey --- where're yeh goin'?"  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had all begun running back to the castle. "'Bye Hagrid!" I called, waving. I knew it would be the very last time that I ever saw him.  
  
We didn't speak to each other at all until we came to a halt in the entrance hall, which seemed very cold and gloomy after the grounds.  
  
"We've got to go to Dumbledore," Harry said. "Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak --- it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn't stop him. Where's Dumbledore's office?"  
  
We looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing us in the right direction. All I knew was that it was blocked by a stone gargoyle statue, and that didn't help much. We would still need a password.  
  
"We'll just have to ---" Harry began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.  
  
"What are you four doing inside?"  
  
It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.  
  
"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," Hermione told her, rather bravely the rest of us thought.  
  
"See Professor Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. "Why?"  
  
I swallowed and kept my mouth shut, hoping someone else would say something.  
  
"It's sort of secret," Harry said. Oh yeah, that was brilliant, I thought to myself. Professor McGonagall's nostrils flared.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," she said coldly. "He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."  
  
"He's gone?" Harry asked frantically. "Now?"  
  
"Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time ---"  
  
"But this is important."  
  
"Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?"  
  
"Look," Harry told her, "Professor --- it's about the Sorcerer's Stone ---"  
  
Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn't pick them up.  
  
"How do you know ---?" she spluttered.  
  
"Professor, I think --- I know --- that Sn --- that someone's going to try and steal the Stone. I've got to talk to Professor Dumbledore."  
  
She eyed Harry with a mixture of shock and suspicion.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."  
  
"But Professor ---"  
  
"Potter, I know what I'm talking about," she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."  
  
But we didn't.  
  
"It's tonight," Harry told us, once Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."  
  
"But what can we ---"  
  
Hermione gasped. Harry, Ron, and I wheeled round.  
  
There was Snape.  
  
"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.  
  
We stared at him.  
  
"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he remarked, with an odd, twisted smile.  
  
"We were ---" Harry began.  
  
"You want to be more careful," Snape said. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"  
  
I flushed. We turned to go outside, but Snape called us back. "Be warned, Potter --- any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."  
  
He strode off in the direction of the staff room.  
  
Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the rest of us.  
  
"Right, here's what we've got to do," he whispered urgently. "One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape --- wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you'd better do that."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"It's obvious," Ron replied. "You can pretend to be waiting or Professor Flitwick, you know." He put on a high voice, " 'Oh Professor Flitwick, I'm so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong . . .'"  
  
"Oh, shut up," Hermione told him while Harry and I smiled, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.  
  
"And we'd better stay outside the third-floor corridor," Harry told Ron and me. "Come on."  
  
But that part of the plan didn't work. No sooner had we reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again, and this time, she lost her temper.  
  
"I suppose you think you're harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!" she stormed. "Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you've come anywhere near here again, I'll take another fifty points from Gryffindor! Yes, Weasley, from my own house!"  
  
We went back to the common room. Harry had just said, "At least Hermione's on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came in.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went."  
  
"Well, that's it, isn't it?" Harry said.  
  
Hermione, Ron, and I stared at him. He was pale and his eyes were glittering.  
  
"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."  
  
"You're mad!" Ron exclaimed.  
  
"You can't!" Hermione told him. "After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You'll be expelled!"  
  
"SO WHAT?" Harry shouted. "Don't you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side! I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you three say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"  
  
He glared at us.  
  
"You're right, Harry," Hermione said in a small voice.  
  
"I'll use the invisibility cloak," Harry told us. "It's just lucky I got it back."  
  
"But will it cover all four of us?" Ron asked.  
  
"All --- all four of us?"  
  
"Oh, come off if, you don't think we'd let you go alone?"  
  
"Of course not," Hermione said briskly. "How do you think you'd get to the Stone without us? I'd better go and look through my books, there might be something useful . . ."  
  
"But it we get caught, you three will be expelled, too."  
  
"Not if I can help it," Hermione told him grimly. "Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They're not throwing me out after that."  
  
Before dinner, I sent both Lisa and Laura an owl. They both said the same thing:  
  
Trap door, tonight. The password to Gryffindor tower is "wattlebird." I'll wait for you in the common room. 11:00. ~Courtney  
  
I didn't get a response back from either of my friends, but like I said before, no news was good news.  
  
After dinner I sat in the common room with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Nobody bothered us; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to half of us, after all.  
  
Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the enchantments they were about to break. Ron sat staring into the fire. Through the silence, however, Harry said, "Courtney, can I talk to you?"  
  
"Sure." We both got up and walked over to a more private area of the common room.  
  
"Can you please tell me what's going to happen tonight?" Harry asked as we sat down.  
  
"Harry, you know I can't," I told him. He hung his head. I took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm not walking down with you guys."  
  
"Why not?" Harry looked up at me.  
  
"Lisa and Laura are going to meet me here at eleven. I'm going down with them."  
  
"Is that safe?"  
  
"Yeah," I replied, thinking about Laura's watch and Lisa's morphing power. We'd be fine.  
  
"Are you going to be all right?"  
  
"Yeah, sure," I told him with a nod. "I don't get scared easily."  
  
"No, I mean . . ." he let the statement hang.  
  
"Oh," I sighed. Then I took both his hands in mine. "I have to die tonight, Harry. I have to."  
  
"No, you don't have to."  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"You can stay here, with me."  
  
I looked up to stop the tears.  
  
"I need to go home." I looked back down.  
  
"This can be your home," Harry told me desperately. "I'm sure you can find someplace to stay."  
  
I shut my eyes tightly. When I opened them again, Harry was looking at me.  
  
"You're going to have a tough time tonight," I told him. "I'll help you as much as I can, but when it's time for me to die, Harry, please don't try and save me."  
  
Harry looked a bit shocked to say the least.  
  
"I don't belong here; I never have, I never will."  
  
"Harry, you'd better get the cloak," Ron said from across the room once Lee Jordan had left the common room, stretching and yawning. Harry got up, but I pulled him back.  
  
"You can't tell them, Harry," I told him. "Not until I'm gone."  
  
With a pained expression on his face, Harry nodded. Then he walked up the spiral staircase up to the boys' dormitories. I held my head in my hands.  
  
Why me?  
  
It was ten till eleven when Harry, Ron, and Hermione left. I don't know what excuse Harry gave the other two, but whatever it was it worked. On their way out of Gryffindor tower, however, Neville stopped them. "What are you doing?" Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.  
  
"Nothing, Neville, nothing," Harry lied, hurriedly putting the cloak behind his back.  
  
Neville stared at their guilty faces.  
  
"You're going out again," he said.  
  
"No, no, no," Hermione told him. "No we're not. Why don't you go to bed, Neville?"  
  
"You can't go out," Neville said, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."  
  
"You don't understand," Harry insisted, "this is important."  
  
But Neville was clearly steeling himself to do something desperate.  
  
"I won't let you do it," he said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll --- I'll fight you!"  
  
"Neville," Ron exploded, "get away from that hole and don't be an  
idiot---"  
  
"Don't call me an idiot!" Neville exclaimed. "I don't think you should be breaking any more rules! And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"  
  
"Yes, but not to us," Ron told him in exasperation. "Neville, you don't know what you're doing."  
  
He took a step forward and Neville dropped Trevor the toad, who leapt out of sight.  
  
"Go on then, try and hit me!" Neville said, raising his fists. "I'm ready!"  
  
Harry turned to Hermione.  
  
"Do something," he said desperately.  
  
Hermione stepped forward.  
  
"Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this."  
  
She raised her wand.  
  
"Petrificus Totalus!" she cried, pointing it at Neville.  
  
Neville's arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board.  
  
Hermione ran to turn him over. Neville's jaws were jammed together so he couldn't speak. Only his eyes were moving, looking up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione in horror.  
  
"What've you done to him?" Harry whispered.  
  
"It's the full Body-Bind," Hermione replied miserably. "Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry."  
  
"We had to, Neville, no time to explain," Harry told him.  
  
"You'll understand later, Neville," Ron said as they stepped over him and pulled on the invisibility cloak. Before Harry put his head under the cloak, he looked over at me. I smiled and nodded. He nodded jerkily back and then he was gone. They left Gryffindor tower, and five minutes later, the portrait hole opened and in pranced a Mrs. Norris look-alike. "Hey Lisa," I said. Lisa demorphed.  
  
"Do you have a spare robe for me to wear?" she asked.  
  
"Sure," I replied, and quickly ran up to my dormitory and grabbed one of my spare robes. By the time I got back down to the common room, Laura was standing next to Lisa. "Hello, Laura," I said, handing Lisa the robe.  
  
"Thanks," she said.  
  
"Okay, are you two ready to go?" Laura asked.  
  
"Hold on," Lisa said, the robe muffling her voice. She straightened it out and smiled. "Okay!"  
  
Lisa saying, "Hold on," had made me feel as though I was forgetting something, something important. I shrugged it off and looked at Neville.  
  
"See ya Neville," I said miserably. Then Lisa and I each put a hand on Laura's shoulder while Laura pressed the appropriate button on her watch. We sped up so fast that it seemed to us that the whole world had stopped. Without a word we left Gryffindor tower. I got the best backward glance I could of it because I knew I would never be returning to it.  
  
We made it safely to the third-floor corridor and, once we were outside of the door and hidden fairly well, we got out of hypertime. After awhile, Peeves came along and began trying to loosen the carpet so people would trip.  
  
"Who's there?" he asked suddenly. The three of us stood up. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"  
  
He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at the air.  
  
"Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."  
  
"Peeves," we suddenly heard a hoarse voice whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."  
  
Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs.  
  
"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake --- I didn't see you --- of course I didn't, you're invisible --- forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."  
  
"I have business here, Peeves," the voice croaked again. "Stay away from this place tonight."  
  
"I will, sir, I most certainly will," Peeves said, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."  
  
And he scooted off.  
  
"Brilliant, Harry!" we heard Ron whisper  
  
The door to the third-floor corridor was already ajar, of course. We waited for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to come nearer to us before we showed ourselves.  
  
"If you want to go back, I won't blame you," we heard Harry whisper. "You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."  
  
"Don't be stupid," Ron told him.  
  
"We're coming," Hermione said.  
  
"Which is more than I can say for Courtney," Ron added.  
  
"Hey!" I said hotly, coming out of the shadows. Startled, the three of them dropped the cloak. Harry smiled, the other two seemed stunned.  
  
"How did you get here?" Ron asked.  
  
"With them," I said, jerking my thumb behind me. Lisa and Laura showed themselves.  
  
"A Slytherin?"  
  
"And a Hufflepuff?" Hermione added.  
  
"Did you know about this Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
"Yeah," Harry replied softly.  
  
"And you didn't tell us?"  
  
"I made him swear he wouldn't," I told them.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"He'll explain later," I said.  
  
"Come on, Snape's already past Fluffy," Harry said. Silently, we slipped through the open door toward Fluffy. It was so dark I doubt the dog's six eyes could have seen anything anyway, but Harry insisted that as many people as possible get under the invisibility cloak. The dog's noses sniffed madly in our direction but couldn't see us.  
  
"What's that at its feet?" Hermione whispered.  
  
"Looks like a harp," Ron said. "Snape must have left it there."  
  
"It must wake up the moment you stop playing," Harry mused. "Well, here goes . . ."  
He put the flute that Hagrid had given him for Christmas up to his lips and blew. It wasn't really a tune, but from the first note the beast's eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog's growls ceased --- it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep.  
  
"Keep playing," Ron warned Harry as we slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. We could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as we approached the giant heads.  
  
"I think we'll be able to pull the door open," Ron said, peering over the dog's back. "Want to go first Hermione?"  
  
"No, I don't!"  
  
"All right." Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs.  
  
"I'll help," Lisa told him. She walked over and they both grabbed the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.  
  
"What can you see?" Hermione asked anxiously.  
  
"Nothing --- just black --- there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop."  
  
Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at himself.  
  
"You want to go first? Are you sure?" Ron asked. "I don't know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to someone so they can keep him asleep."  
  
Harry handed me flute. In the few seconds' silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment I began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep.  
  
Harry climbed over and looked down through the trapdoor. Then he lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Ron and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?"  
  
"Right," Ron said.  
  
"See you in a minute, I hope . . ."  
  
And Harry let go.  
  
"It's okay!" he called up a little while later, "it's a soft landing, you can jump!"  
  
Ron followed Harry, and Hermione followed Ron.  
  
"Okay, you guys. This is it. We're going home tonight. If I don't get a chance to say it later," Laura smiled, "I'll see you on the other side!" Then she jumped through the hole.  
  
"Have fun getting home!" Lisa laughed. Then she knelt down and patted Fluffy. It didn't occur to me at the time that she was acquiring his DNA, I found that out later. She then followed Laura through the trapdoor.  
  
I walked over to the opening, still playing the flute. I was about to go to my death, no, I prefer to look at it as my ticket home. That sounds better. Anyway, I stopped playing the flute. Then I jumped.  
  
Cold, damp air rushed past me as I fell down, down, down and ---  
  
FLUMP! With a funny, muffled sort of thump I landed on something soft. A plant. I could hear Fluffy's distant barks and growls, but Fluffy didn't matter anymore.  
  
"We must be miles under the school," Hermione said.  
  
"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," Ron remarked.  
  
"Lucky!" Hermione shrieked. "Look at you all!"  
  
She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing. Laura was wound about pretty well. The plant had wrapped itself around her legs, stomach, chest, throat . . . and she was looking rather pale.  
  
Lisa wasn't as bad off as Laura, but the plant still had a firm grip on her. As for me, I just sat still and looked about me in horror. I didn't have the will to do anything.  
  
Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she was watching the rest of us in horror as we fought to pull the plant off of us, but the more we strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around us. Laura was thrashing pretty wildly, too. She started to turn a grayish color. I hoped she was all right.  
  
"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered us. "I know what this is --- it's Devil's Snare!"  
  
"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," Ron snarled, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.  
  
"Shut-up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" Hermione said.  
  
"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.  
  
"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare . . . what did Professor Sprout say? --- it likes the dark and the damp ---"  
  
"So light a fire!" Harry choked.  
  
"Yes --- of course --- but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands.  
  
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"  
  
"Oh, right!" Hermione said, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, we all felt the plant loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from our bodies, and we were able to pull free.  
  
"Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione," Harry said as we joined her by the wall.  
  
"Yeah," added Ron, "and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis --- 'there's no wood,' honestly."  
  
I smiled and looked around. "Wait, where's Laura?"  
  
We all looked out at the now still plant. In the center lay Laura's lifeless body. Hermione and Ron gasped. Harry put his hand on my shoulder.  
  
"She's home," I whispered. Lisa looked at me and nodded silently. I knew it must have been hard on her, it was the second time she'd had to deal with her sister dying.  
  
"This way," Harry said silently, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward. I walked in the back with Lisa.  
  
"I wonder if the movie's started yet?"  
  
Lisa looked at me, and then she laughed.  
  
We continued down the long, dark, damp passageway. All we could hear apart from our footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, thank God. I wasn't in the mood to climb.  
  
"Can you hear something?" Ron suddenly whispered.  
  
We all stopped and listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.  
  
"Do you think it's a ghost?"  
  
"I don't know . . . sounds like wings to me."  
  
We walked down to the end of the passageway and saw before us a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above us. It was full of small, jewel-bright "birds," fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.  
  
"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" Ron wondered aloud.  
  
"Probably," Harry replied. "They don't look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once . . . well, there's no other choice . . . I'll run."  
  
He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. He reached the door untouched. Lisa and I looked at one another and burst out laughing. "You could have told me," Harry said.  
  
"What, and miss that?" I laughed. Harry rolled his eyes with a sigh and pulled the handle on the door, but it was locked.  
  
The rest of us followed him over to the door. Hermione, Ron, and Harry tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora charm.  
  
"Now what?" Ron asked.  
  
"These birds . . . they can't be here just for decoration," Hermione said.  
  
"They aren't," Lisa told her.  
  
"Look closer," I said.  
  
The other three looked closer.  
  
"They're not birds!" Harry suddenly exclaimed. "They're keys! Winged keys --- look carefully. So that must mean . . ." he looked around the chamber while Ron and Hermione squinted up at the flock of keys. " . . . yes --- look! Broomsticks! We've got to catch the key to the door!"  
  
"But there are hundreds of them!" Hermione remarked.  
  
Ron examined the lock on the door.  
  
"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one --- probably silver, like the handle."  
  
We each seized a broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. We grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one. I slightly remember ramming into Lisa once, or twice, but I never caught a key.  
  
"That one!" Harry suddenly called to us. He pointed, but we couldn't exactly see what he was pointing at. "That big one --- there --- no, there ---"  
  
Oh, there! I thought sarcastically.  
  
"--- with bright blue wings --- the feathers are all crumpled on one side," Harry finished describing the key.  
  
Ron went speeding in the direction that Harry was pointing, crashed into the ceiling, and nearly fell of his broom.  
  
"We've got to close in on it!" Harry called. "Ron, you come at it from above --- Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down. Lisa and Courtney, block it on the sides --- I'll try and catch it. Right, NOW!"  
  
Ron dived, Hermione rocketed upward, and Lisa and I shot toward each other, scarily enough. The key dodged all of us, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Our cheers echoed around the high chamber.  
  
We landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned --- it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.  
  
"Ready?" Harry asked us, his hand on the door handle. We nodded. He pulled the door open.  
  
The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as we stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight.  
  
We were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller then we were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing us, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. We all shivered slightly --- the towering white chessman had no faces.  
  
"Now what do we do?" Harry whispered.  
  
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron said. "We've got to play our way across the room."  
  
Behind the white chess pieces we could see another door.  
  
"I think," Ron said, "we're going to have to be chessmen."  
  
He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight's horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron.  
  
"Do we --- er --- have to join you to get across?"  
  
The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the rest of us.  
  
"This needs thinking about . . ." he said. "I suppose we've got to take the place of five of the black pieces . . ."  
  
We all stayed quiet, watching Ron think.  
  
"Hey, Ron?" Lisa said, studying the chessboard.  
  
"Yeah?" Ron looked up at her.  
  
"Courtney and I can take the place of two of the pawns," Lisa told him.  
  
"But pawns get . . ."  
  
"Sacrificed, I know."  
  
Ron looked at Harry, who nodded.  
  
"All right," Ron agreed. "Now, don't be offended or anything, but Harry, Hermione, neither of you are that good at chess ---"  
  
"We're not offended," Harry assured him quickly. "Just tell us what to do."  
  
"Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
"I'm going to be a knight," Ron replied.  
  
The chessman seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, a castle, and two pawns turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving five empty squares that the five of us took.  
  
"White always plays first in chess," Ron told us, peering across the board. "Yes . . . look . . ."  
  
A white pawn had moved forward two squares.  
  
Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. My knees were trembling. I knew my death was slowly creeping up.  
  
"Harry --- move diagonally four squares to the right."  
  
By now Lisa had moved out near the middle of the board, but I hadn't really moved at all.  
  
The first real shock came when our other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.  
  
"Had to let that happen," Ron told us, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on."  
  
Every time one of our men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Harry, Hermione, Lisa, or I was in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as we had lost black ones. Suddenly, he looked up at Lisa. She looked around the board and her face turned as white as chalk.  
  
"What's wrong?" I asked worriedly.  
  
"I have to be sacrificed for the rest of you to get across," Lisa replied quietly.  
  
My heart wrenched. No, no, no. This wasn't happening.  
  
Why me?  
  
I just looked at her; I had lost the use of my voice. "Well," Lisa said softly, "good-bye you guys. It's been fun." Then she walked across the board a few paces. One of the white pieces (I don't know which, I wasn't watching it, I was watching Lisa) slid toward my best friend. With one final, worried look at me, Lisa was taken. The white chessman pummeled her to the ground with sickening cracks. I cried out her name, but I knew it was too late. Her limp carcass was flung across the room onto the pile of other demolished black chessmen. I shut my eyes tightly to keep from screaming. Hermione didn't have such luck. She had let out an ear- piercing shriek, and Ron had watched in disbelief, not saying a word. Harry was looking at me when I opened my eyes. I focused my gaze on my feet.  
  
After a minute or so, Ron muttered, "We're nearly there. Let me think --- let me think . . ."  
  
The white queen turned her blank face toward him.  
  
"Yes," Ron said softly, "it's the only way . . . I've got to be taken."  
  
"NO!" Harry, Hermione, and even I shouted.  
  
"That's chess!" Ron snapped. "You've got to make some sacrifices! Look at Lisa! I take one more step forward and the queen will take me --- that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!"  
  
"But ---"  
  
"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"  
  
"Ron ---"  
  
"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"  
  
There was no alternative, and we all knew it.  
  
"Ready?" Ron called, his face pale but determined. "Here I go --- now, don't hang around once you've won."  
  
He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor --- Hermione screamed but stayed on her square --- the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he'd been knocked out.  
  
Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left.  
  
The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry's feet. We had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry and Hermione opened the door. I looked back where Lisa's body had been thrown and smiled when I saw that it was gone. She was home, Laura was home, but I was still with Harry. I followed Harry and Hermione through the door and up the next passageway.  
  
"What if he's ---?" Hermione began.  
  
"He'll be all right," Harry told her. He looked at me, and I nodded.  
  
"And Lisa?"  
  
"She's gone," I replied. There was silence for a few seconds, but then Harry broke it.  
  
"What do you reckon's next?" he asked.  
  
"We've had Sprout's, that was the Devil's Snare; Flitwick must've put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell's spell, and Snape's . . ."  
  
We had reached another door.  
  
"All right?" Harry whispered.  
  
"Go on," Hermione and I said together.  
  
Harry pushed it open.  
  
A disgusting smell filled our nostrils, making us all pull our robes up over our noses. Eyes watering, we saw, flat on the floor in front of us, a troll even larger than the one we had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head.  
  
"I'm glad we didn't have to fight that one," Harry whispered as we stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. "Come on, I can't breathe."  
  
He pulled open the next door, all of us hardly daring to look at what came next --- but there was nothing very frightening in there, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing in a line. Little did Harry and Hermione know, this was worse than any of the others.  
  
"Snape's," Harry said. "What do we have to do?"  
  
We stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind us in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading outward. We were trapped.  
  
"Look!" Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. Harry and I looked over her shoulder to read it:  
  
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  
One among us seven will let you move ahead,  
Another will transport the drinker back instead,  
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.  
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;  
Second, different are those who stand at either end,  
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;  
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.  
  
Hermione let out a great sigh and Harry and I, amazed, saw that she was smiling, the very last thing either of us felt like doing.  
  
"Brilliant," Hermione said. "This isn't magic --- it's logic --- a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic, they'd be stuck in here forever."  
  
"But so will we, won't we?"  
  
"Of course not," Hermione replied. "Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire, and one will get us back through the purple."  
  
"But how do we know which one to drink?"  
  
"Give me a minute."  
  
Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands.  
  
"Got it," she announced. "The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire --- toward the Stone."  
  
We all looked at the tiny bottle.  
  
"There's only enough there for one of us," Harry said. "That's hardly one swallow."  
  
We all exchanged glances.  
  
"Which one will get you back through the purple flames?"  
  
Hermione pointed at the rounded bottle at the right end of the line.  
  
"You drink that," Harry told her. "No, listen, go back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they'll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy --- go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I'm no match for him, really."  
  
"But Harry --- what if You-Know-Who's with him?"  
  
"Well --- I was lucky once, wasn't I?" Harry told her, pointing at his scar. "I might get lucky again."  
  
Hermione's lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
I smiled.  
  
"Harry --- you're a great wizard, you know."  
  
"I'm not as good as you," Harry told her, his face turning red, as she let go of him.  
  
"Me!" Hermione exclaimed. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things --- friendship and bravery and --- oh Harry --- be careful!" Then she turned to me. "How are you going to get back?"  
  
"I'll figure something out," I told her, forcing a smile. Then we embraced one another. "Good-bye, Hermione."  
  
"Don't say good-bye, it's such a dreadful word." Then we released each other.  
  
"You drink first," Harry said. "You are sure which is which, aren't you?"  
  
"Positive," Hermione told him. She took a long drink from the round bottle at the end, and shuddered.  
  
"It's not poison?" Harry asked anxiously.  
  
"No --- but it's like ice."  
  
"Quick, go, before it wears off."  
  
"Good luck --- take care ---"  
  
"GO!"  
  
Hermione turned and walked straight through the purple fire.  
  
Harry looked at me.  
  
"Good-bye, Harry," I said softly. Harry looked at the bottles and shook his head. "I have to drink the poison, it's my only ticket home."  
  
"Stay here, please."  
  
"You know I can't."  
  
"I'll do anything."  
  
"There's nothing either of us can do. I have to die."  
  
Harry took my hands in his.  
  
"Don't leave." He drew me toward him and held me.  
  
"I don't want to, but I have to go home." I looked up at him. "Don't make it any harder than it has to be." He nodded, but before he let me go, he pressed his lips against mine. Before I knew what was happening, he was gone.  
  
Why me?  
  
I looked back down at the bottles on the table. Two were drained; two were wine; three were my death. I looked back at the black fire separating me from Harry. With a sigh, I chose a bottle and drained it.  
  
Wine.  
  
I chose another and drained it, too. My head began to swim as I sat the empty bottle back down. I was going about the whole dying thing better than ever.  
  
Get drunk --- numb the pain!  
  
Now there were four bottles drained, and three left to kill me. I picked one up and held it to my lips. Would it be considered suicide if I drank it? That thought had never crossed my mind before. I sat the bottle, still full, back on the table.  
  
Now I really was trapped. I couldn't go forward, Harry had drained that bottle, and I couldn't go back either, because Hermione had drained that bottle.  
  
Why me?  
  
Why me?  
  
Why me?  
  
I leaned on the table and fought back the urge to throw all of the bottles against the wall. I looked around and something suddenly caught my eyes.  
  
The bottle that Harry had drained was . . .  
  
Full!  
  
Without a second thought, I drained the bottle and walked through the black flames toward Harry, toward the Stone, and more than likely toward my death.  
  
When I got through the fire, a very unsettling scene met my eyes.  
  
"Harry!" 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve  
  
Voldemort's voice was shrieking, "Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" Quirrell lunged at Harry, knocking him clean off his feet, landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck.  
  
"Master, I cannot hold him --- my hands --- my hands!"  
  
Suddenly, more sinister than anything I'd ever heard before, the voice of Voldemort said, "Leave the boy, kill the girl."  
  
I looked around, kind of hoping to see another girl around, but, alas, I was the only female in the whole chamber.  
  
Quirrell, shaking violently, stood up and glared at me. I finally remembered what I'd forgotten: my sword. Not that it would have done me much good because the next second, Quirrell had whipped out his wand and pointed it at me.  
  
Frightened, I looked at Harry, but he was lying, half-blinded by pain, on the ground. I looked back at Quirrell and before I had any time to react, a jet of bright green light shot at me and a pain unlike any I had ever felt overtook my body. I screamed in agony and fell to the ground, but when I landed I didn't hit stone, I hit . . .  
  
A cushioned movie seat!  
  
I looked to my left.  
  
Laura!  
  
I looked to my right.  
  
Lisa!  
  
I was back! I nearly cried I was so happy.  
  
"So, how did you die?" Laura asked conversationally.  
  
"Wizard's Chess," Lisa replied.  
  
"Voldemort," I sighed. Something was poking me in the back. I reached behind me and my hand grasped something hard, and long, and wooden. "Oh, hell no!" I nearly yelled.  
  
"What?" Lisa and Laura asked.  
  
I showed them my wand. They just laughed.  
  
"So that's it? It's all over? We each got a power, so we can't go into anymore books, right?" Laura said. Before Lisa or I could respond, the pre-movie previews came on the movie screen. For three hours, throughout the entire movie we had come to see, the three of us sat in complete silence, looking back on what had just happened. We had come into the theater reminiscing, and that's how we left.  
  
Lisa and Laura's dad, who had picked us all up, dropped me off at my house. My mom let me in when I knocked on the door. All my pets greeted me as I walked in, one still hungry, one wanting to play, and one to just rub on my leg. I smiled and sat my purse down.  
  
Later that night, as I was getting ready for bed, I stepped in front of my mirror to wash my face. As I looked at my reflection, I suddenly gasped. On my forehead, just barely visible, was a mark. A lightning mark. I took my washcloth and began scrubbing. Nothing changed, my skin just got blood red. I moaned and sat down on my toilet. I thought that once I left the book, I would never say this again, but . . .  
  
Why me?  
  
Later, I turned out the light in my bedroom and climbed under my covers. It suddenly seemed strange to be sleeping in such a small bed after so long in a four-poster. And nothing in my room was scarlet, how strange?  
  
My eyes drooped shut, and I was dreaming in a matter of time.  
  
I looked around me. There were people moving in the pictures. In the bed next to me lay someone I recognized.  
  
"Harry?" He looked over at me and smiled.  
  
"You're alive." I looked around again.  
  
"Yeah," I laughed. Then I looked back at him. "So are you."  
  
Harry nodded, and it was apparent that his thoughts were someplace else. "Dumbledore was just here," he said after a minute or two of silence. That would explain it, I thought.  
  
"And?"  
  
Before Harry could reply, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. Behind her, I caught a glimpse of two kids standing on tiptoe, one with bushy brown hair, and one with flaming red hair. I smiled and allowed my body to relax entirely. "Oh good, you're awake," Madam Pomfrey said as she sidled up to my bed.  
  
"Just barely," I muttered.  
  
"You have visitors."  
  
"Can they come in?" Harry asked.  
  
"Of course not, you two need your rest."  
  
"Just five minutes."  
  
"Absolutely not."  
  
"You let Professor Dumbledore in . . ."  
  
"Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different." Then she looked down at me, and I must have looked pretty crappy because she shook her head. "You need your rest."  
  
"I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey . . ."  
  
Madam Pomfrey looked back at me.  
  
"Me, too," I said defensively, though my eyelids were falling.  
  
"Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only."  
  
And she let Ron and Hermione in.  
  
"Harry! Courtney!" Hermione was grinning from ear-to-ear. "Oh, we were sure that you two were going to --- Dumbledore was so worried ---"  
  
"The whole school's talking about it," Ron told us. "What really happened?"  
  
As Harry tried to explain to the two of them what had happened down in the chamber, I drifted continuously in and out of consciousness, and finally gave in to the darkness.  
  
I opened my eyes, but I was still in darkness. The space I was in felt more compact than the hospital wing. Then I heard my fan, and realized that I was no longer in Hogwarts.  
  
I looked over at my clock. 4:30.  
  
I moaned and turned onto my side.  
  
That had been a strange dream. It had felt so real, the pain, everything. Had I gone back? I remembered everything, and I was now afraid to go back to sleep. I sat up in my bed and looked out my window. To my shock, I saw snow. It was covering the ground! No school! I smiled and turned on my TV.  
  
By midday, I still couldn't shake the feeling that my dream hadn't been a dream. But soon, I remembered that I had homework to do, and that took my mind off of everything for a little while.  
  
By 5:00, I had absolutely nothing to do, so I called Lisa. "Hello?" a man's voice came on the line.  
  
"Is Lisa there?" I asked.  
  
"Hold on."  
  
A few seconds later, "Hello?"  
  
"Lisa?"  
  
"Yeah," Lisa replied, "hey Court."  
  
"I had nothing else to do, so I called you."  
  
"What's new?" We laughed.  
  
"Well, I guess it's back to school tomorrow. This snow won't last long."  
  
"Yeah, but I'll tell you what, this has been one hell of a weekend!"  
  
"You're telling me," I sighed. Then I smiled to myself and said, "Lisa, let's never, ever, ever do that again." 


End file.
